Devokan Tsahno
by NebThauDragmire
Summary: AU When a teenage girl finds an odd looking book in the New Mexican desert, she's transported to a strange new world. . . but the world is nothing next to the family that lives there. PreMyst, Myst, Riven. Rated T to be safe.
1. Prologue

**A/N: Ok guys, this is it. My second attempt at a multichapter story took a lot of thought, but I've finally got something worked out. Trust me, this isn't your usual Myst fanfic. This is Alternate Universe as you've never seen it before. When writing the outline for this story, the first thing I did was promptly take canon and chuck it out the nearest window.**

**And now, without further ado, I present:**

Devokan Tsahno

Prologue

The Finding of the Book

I watched with anticipation as the dust cloud grew closer. It was a big one this time; the biggest devil that I've seen all summer. I steadied myself on the rocky outcropping, gripping the tarp. I watched as the dirt devil came nearer. It was almost eight feet tall, two feet shorter than the small cliff on which I stood. This thing was powerful, too - it was ripping up the smaller plants by the roots. It was close now. I pulled the tarp into the right position. Then, after a swift count to three, I threw the tarp into the wind.

It was airborne! The tarp, with the rock attached, was flying right along with the dirt devil! But it was turning away from me. I scrambled back down the other side of the cliff, then took off at a run after the tarp.

I followed it for some time. It was heading towards the old volcano at the end of my parents' land. That dormant volcano was my 'base of operations'. I had spent months buying wood to transport out there. My dad and I had built a sort of lab in the empty crater. There, I had set up an area to test the wind and possible seismic activity. I had two of those cool little jars with the metal balls that tell you where an earthquake is; I had one set out here and one in my room back at the house.

As the dirt devil neared the volcano, however, the wind died and it disappeared. The tarp carrying the rock dropped to the ground. This was indeed odd, but not unexpected. There was never any wind around the volcano. I looked up at the weather vane, which confirmed my observation. The windless area stretched to about a quarter mile around the volcano itself. I could find no explanation for this; it just was.

I walked over to the fallen rock. Picking it up, I proceeded to scan the surrounding area. This wind. . . or lack thereof. . . there had to be some explanation! There had to be! But I'd spent two years experimenting, researching. . . nothing. No theories, no ideas. I sighed. I guess it was something that I just had to accept, however much my mind rebelled against the idea.

I began my hike up to my garden shed of a lab in the crater of the volcano. And when I say garden shed, I _mean_ garden shed. I opened the door to my little hut and was again painfully aware of the lack of room. In order to sit down, I had to take my office chair out, step inside, pull the chair back in, sit down, spin around, and close the door.

I loved my lab, though. Tables lined three walls and shelves were built up to the ceiling. My dad had built a skylight last year to take in the daylight hours, but when I came out here at night, I needed electricity. Unfortunately, my dad said I had to figure it out on my own. Having no knowledge of electrical engineering, I enlisted the help of my best friend and greatest rival, David. He and I made a cheap battery-powered generator. It had to be charged with a hand crank in my lab every fifteen minutes, but it worked.

I turned to one of my shelves, pulling out a book at random.

"The Strange Case of Dr. Jekyll and Mr. Hyde," I read aloud. "Nice choice, Cecilia."

Oh, I'm sorry, I guess I've forgotten to introduce myself. My name is Cecilia. I'm sixteen years old, living in northern-ish New Mexico. I have blonde hair that's a little shorter than shoulder length. I have green eyes, my build is skinny but not overly so, and my most prized possession is a pair of reading glasses that were made to look exactly like Allan Quartermain's from The League of Extraordinary Gentlemen. As you can probably tell, I'm very much a literary nerd.

Said reading glasses were balanced on the edge of my nose as I opened the cover of my book.

"Mr. Utterson the lawyer was a man of a rugged countenance," I read aloud, "that was never lighted by a smile; cold, scanty and embarrassed in discourse; backwards in sentiment; lean, long, dusty, dreary, and yet somehow lovable. At friendly meetings, and-"

_Thump!_

I sat up abruptly.

_What in the world was that? _I thought. _My parents and brother aren't home, and David's off on a college tour at Harvard for the week. Lucky duck._

Book still in hand, I spun around in my chair and opened the door. There was nothing that I could see at first. Just the usual dust and rocks and ugly, scrawny plants. Oh, and that book right there. . . wait. A book?

Curious, I walked out of my lab and over to the rather large volume that had seemingly appeared on the desert floor. The book was very, very old, it's cover a worn sea-green, it's corners and spine slightly damaged. On the cover, in great gold letters, was the word 'Myst'.

"Sounds like something Jules Verne would write," I muttered. Still, I picked up the book and dusted it off. I lifted the old cover, being careful not to damage it. There was nothing on the first page. Nothing, that is, but a word.

"Ti'ana."

It sounded like a name. The author's name, maybe? It was very unusual. I flipped the page. I stared at the symbols weaving their way across the page. It was unlike any writing I had ever seen. It was fluid and graceful looking, the words themselves long. I flipped through the rest of the pages, finding not a trace of English anywhere. But there was something else there, on the very last page. I gasped. It was a beautiful picture of an island. There were amazingly tall tress and bright green grass covered almost all the island. There was a boat and a dock and buildings.

And the picture was _moving_. It was _moving_! The picture rotated to the left, showing different views of the island. Gazing in amazement, I turned the last page to see if there was an embedded screen. But it wasn't. It was a perfectly normal-looking picture. Without thinking, I carefully brushed my fingers against it.

A strange tingling sensation ran up my arm. Then, I felt as if I were being drawn into the page. No, wait. I _was_ being drawn into the page! A sensation of falling filled me as the desert scene in front of me faded to black.

**Typical, huh? But hey, we've all been there in some way or another, right? ;)**

**Reviews make me happy and keep me writing! The next chapter is in the works and will be up soon(ish)!**


	2. Meeting the Family

**A/N: Yay! First chapter goodness! I had the worst writer's block with this chapter, too. But needs a Prologue function.**

**I had a request to translate the chapter title. "Devokan" means "hope" and "Tsahno" means "eternal". So, the title for the story is "Eternal Hope" (In D'ni, the adjective comes after the noun).**

**Oh, and I forgot the disclaimer in the last chapter headdesk Ok, Cyan owns Myst and all related characters/Ages/etc. I own the character of Cecilia. There. That's it. I hope I don't have to put that on every chapter. You smart people can figure it out, right?**

**Now, without further ado, I present:**

Devokan Tsahno

Chapter 1

Meeting the Family

The first thing I felt was cold. Very cold. And yet, I felt smothered and constricted. In my semi-conscious state, I began thrashing, trying to get out of whatever was holding me. I heard a voice, murmuring words of comfort. Something warm was placed against my forehead. I stopped moving. I opened my eyes, but it didn't help much. The world was blurry and out of focus, but I could make out a different colored blur the shape of someone's head. As my vision cleared, I realized that I was looking at a woman.

"Hello, dear," she said, smiling warmly, "How are you feeling?"

"Alright," I murmured, "Where am I?"

"Myst Island," she said.

I frowned, then let out a hiss. The mere movement of my forehead caused stinging pain. The woman took the warm thing off my forehead, which I now realized was a damp cloth. As she was wringing the water out of said cloth, she kept talking to me.

"You hit your head rather hard when you arrived. My husband, Atrus, found you while he was out walking. You gave us quite a fright. We're. . . not used to visitors here."

She replaced the cloth, then resumed speaking.

"My name is Catherine. And you are. . .?"

"Cecilia," I said, "And do you know exactly _how_ I got here? The last thing I remember is finding this really weird book near my house. It had a moving picture, which was really odd because all the books I've ever read _never_ had moving pictures. . ."

My ramblings died on my lips as I looked at Catherine. All the color had drained from her face.

"Are you alright?" I asked. Catherine brought a hand to her forehead to a moment, then stood up.

"I'm alright," she said, "I need to speak with my husband. I will be back shortly."

With that, she turned on her heel and left the room.

I laid my head back down on the pillow. Catherine's reaction startled me; could I have really caused that much alarm? All I did was find a book. . . granted, it was a very odd book. . .

Well, with nothing better to do, I started to drift back off to sleep. I was just on the edge of consciousness, too, when two voices jolted me awake again.

"But Ach'nar, N-Nanna told us n-not to d-dis. . . dis. . ."

"_Disturb_ her. But we're not gonna _disturb_ her, Sirr. We're just gonna _look_!"

I turned my head slightly and kept my eyes open a tad bit, just enough to see. Two boys appeared in the doorway, one with a wide, unafraid gaze, and the other with a curious look, despite the fact that he kept checking the hallway for approaching people.

_They look like brothers_, I thought. _Heck, they _act_ like brothers!_

The older-looking, unafraid one looked like he'd been playing outside: His clothes and hands were dirt stained, while his hair was frizzy and wild. The other, younger-looking sibling was undisturbed, except for his slightly windblown hair.

The two inched into the room. The younger one took in everything, but the other kept his gaze fixed on me. Turning to his brother, he pointed at me.

"See, Sirr?" he whispered, "She's sleepin'!"

The boy looked unconvinced

"Yeah.. . . b-but we could s-still g-get in trouble, Ach'nar. . ."

"Ach'nar" shoved him lightly.

"Oh, come on, Sirr! Where's your sense of adventure?"

"You s-stolded it f-from me, Ach'nar, renember?"

I couldn't contain my laughter. I let out a snort and a giggle. The two boys backed up, startled. Still giggling, I eased myself into a sitting position. I closed my eyes against the wave of dizziness and slight nausea. I opened my eyes to see the two boys standing near my bed, eyes wide as if they'd never seen a teenage girl before.

"Hi there," I said, "Who are you two fine gentlemen?"

I almost laughed again as the younger one scooted around to hide behind his brother, who stepped up to speak.

"I'm Achenar!" he all but shouted, "I'm seven years old!"

"Very nice to meet you, Achenar. And who are you, good sir?"

The younger one poked his head around the side of his brother.

"I-I'm Sirrus," he stuttered out, "I-I'm four."

"It's good to meet you, Sirrus," I said, grinning. "My name is Cecilia, and I'm sixteen years old."

Sirrus' eyes widened.

"Y-you're sixteen? T-that m-means you must k-know as much as F-father and M-mother!"

"No one knows as much as Father and Mother," countered Achenar swiftly, "'cept Nanna."

"Uh-hunh," nodded Sirrus, "N-no one knows as m-much as N-nanna."

He turned to me, saying, "N-nanna knows everything."

"I'm sure she does."

"Sirrus! Achenar! What did I tell you about disturbing the poor girl?"

I looked up. An old woman had appeared in the doorway. She was wearing a faded dress of bright cyan and her long grey hair was braided down her back. Her face was alight with a smile despite the scolding she was giving.

"We're sorry, Nanna," said Achenar softly, looking at the ground. Sirrus mearly nodded. "Nanna" sighed.

"Alright then. Why don't you two go off and play while I speak with the young lady."

The two scurried out of the room without a word. The woman chuckled and watched them go. Turning back, she sat in the chair that Catherine had vacated earlier.

"How are you feeling, dear?" she asked. I was just going to say "fine", but something in her face made me stop. I felt as if I could never lie to this woman.

"Not too great," I admitted, laying back down on the pillow, "My head hurts and I feel a little ill."

"That is to be expected. You have a rather nasty cut across your forehead where you hit it as you Linked in."

"Linked in? Wha-?"

"You found a book, yes?"

"Uh-hunh. It was old and it had a moving picture."

"That, my dear, is a Linking Book. A long time ago, a race known as the D'ni wrote many Books that led to fantastic places beyond all imagination."

"Was that their language I saw in the Book?"

The woman nodded and smiled.

"Yes. The language, the paper, the ink. . . it is all very important to Book writing. But I have forgotten my manners. I am Anna."

"I'm Cecilia. I'm from Earth, which seems very far away at this point."

Anna's brow furrowed.

"Earth? Where, exactly, on Earth?"

"New Mexico. . . I found the Book in the crater of an old volcano."

Anna inhaled sharply in surprise, then relaxed.

"Was there a cleft there?"

"No, there isn't a cleft that I've ever seen, and I've lived there my whole life."

"I see."

Somehow, I felt as if I had disappointed Anna, and I felt sad at the thought. I decided to ask a few questions. Perhaps that would cheer her up.

"So. . . were those two boys your grandchildren?"

Anna laughed.

"No. Those two little dears are my great-grandchildren. I have but one grandchild: My beloved Atrus."

I pondered this a moment. Anna didn't look that old, but I guess she was one of those people who aged gracefully. I was about to open my mouth to ask another question, when two more people wandered into my room. One of them was Catherine, who still looked pale and. . . afraid? The other was a man, who was just as pale but much less fearful.

_That must be Atrus._

"Ah, Atrus," said Anna, confirming my thoughts, "I was just speaking of you. This is Cecilia. She is from Earth. She found our missing Myst Book."

Atrus noticeably relaxed. He turned to me with a warm smile.

"Thank you, Cecilia. You have eased many of our fears by finding that Book."

Now I was _really_ confused. I felt as if I had picked up a new book and just read the last few pages. There was defiantly something I had missed here. But before I could ask any questions, he and Catherine were gone again. Dejected, I closed my eyes and sighed, as did Anna.

"So hasty, my Atrus. Even as a boy, he would never sit still for anything."

I laughed quietly under my breath. Atrus sounded a lot like me.

"Is he a scientist?" I asked.

"Is he?" said Anna with a laugh, "Oh, he is very much a scientist. He is a scientist, an inventor, artist and writer. He loves the world and everything in it. So much, in fact, that he will stop at nothing to understand all of it."

Definitely like me.

"But now is not the time to talk about Atrus. Now is the time for you to sleep, Cecilia. We wouldn't want you to become ill."

She stood up to leave. But I had one more burning question, one that I had to know _now_ before I did anything else.

"Anna?"

She paused, turning back to me.

"Yes, my dear?"

"Can I get back home?"

She hesitated, then, "I do not know, Cecilia. I do not know."

**Yes, I know, another chapter that doesn't help the plot in any way, shape, or form. But I needed to introduce _everyone_. Hopefully, there'll be some plot type things in the next chapter.**


	3. Things I've Never Known

**A/N: Wh00t! Second chapter! Took me forever to write, but hey, I wanted to spend time on this one.**

**Big hugs and thanks and Sirrus plushies for uberlutra, who has been waiting for this story since forever and has sat through hours of my spaztic brainstorming on dA's #MystChat.**

Devokan Tsahno

Chapter 2

Things I've Never Known

"Shorah, Cecilia. Thoe kenem?"

"Wha?"

Thus began the first morning that I was allowed out of bed. Or, rather, the first morning I was fed up with staring at the ceiling all day and decided to get out of bed. Either way, the confusion and uncertainty in Atrus' voice nearly matched my own.

"I apologize. I forget that you do not speak D'ni. How are you?"

I gingerly touched the now-healing cut on my forehead.

"Erm. . . better?"

Atrus nodded, but I could tell he wasn't really convinced. He made a gesture for me to follow him. He led me along a short hallway past many rooms (bedrooms, I guessed. The only room I really recognized was the bathroom, which was across the hall from "my room") before arriving in a kitchen-type area. Up until now, I hadn't seen the rest of Atrus' house. I fell in love with the quaint little area immediately. There were portraits of family members and beautiful scenes on the walls, the table and chairs were made of a soft-looking red wood, and the smell of delicious cooking wafted through the air.

I could hear someone humming a little tune. Looking around more, I saw an open doorway leading into a small kitchen. Catherine was standing at a stone-and-metal table (stove?) making something, humming all the while. She turned to greet Atrus, eyes widening when she saw me.

"Oh, Cecilia, I wasn't expecting you this morning! Here, let me set out an extra plate. Where are Sirrus and Achenar? Atrus, do you think you could find them? It is almost time for breakfast!"

"Catherine, Catherine, slow down!"

Anna had walked into the room, a sleepy Sirrus and Achenar in tow. Achenar opened one bleary eye and yawned, and Sirrus gave me a little halfhearted wave. I waved back. Anna looked at me, smiling.

"I'm glad you're awake, dear," she said to me.

"Mhmm. . ." I said, halfway through a yawn myself.

I wandered around to the other side of the table to where Catherine had put down the extra plate. The dish was piled high with bread and what looked like fruit, though I didn't know for the life of me what it was. But apparently Achenar did, as he almost squealed with joy as he took a red, oval-shaped fruit of his plate. I smiled at his antics and helped myself to a piece of bread. I took a bite and almost died happy. It wasn't so much bread at it was a pastry, and it seemingly melted in my mouth as I chewed it. Atrus chuckled at the look on my face.

"That is precisely how I looked when I first tried Catherine's bread," he said.

"It's amazing!' I said to Catherine, "What's in it?"

"Thank you, Cecilia, but I'm afraid I cannot tell you. It is my secret."

"D-did you h-have food l-like this on Earth, C-Cecilia?" asked Sirrus, holding up a fist-sized yellow fruit. I shook my head.

"Nope. This is all new to me. But in a good way," I quickly added, not wanting to offend my hosts.

The rest of breakfast was spent in conversation. Mostly, Sirrus and Achenar asked me questions about Earth while Atrus, Catherine, and Anna told me the D'ni names of whatever I was eating or using. It was. . . well, surreal bliss. I'd never had a sit-down meal with my family at home, which I was forcefully reminded of when Catherine asked about them.

"Well, my mom and dad are businesspeople," I said, "So they travel around a lot. I don't see them very often. When they aren't home, my brother goes to stay with my grandmother while I watch the house."

I was struck in that instant by the similar structure of the two families. There was a mom, a dad, two kids, and a grandmother figure. Maybe that's why I settled in so quickly. It was all so familiar.

"Anyway," I said, "My brother's name is Lucas. He's nine years old. . . I wonder how he's doing. . ."

After that little cheery conversation, I helped Catherine clear the table (despite her protests). Atrus retreated to his study, and Sirrus and Anna went off somewhere. That left Achenar with me as Catherine washed the dishes.

"C'mon, Cecilia!" he said, tugging me down the hallway, "Let's go outside! You haven't seen the whole island yet!"

I laughed, saying, "Is this island very big, Achenar?"

He shook his head, "Nope. You can walk across it really fast. Father timed it once: It took me five minutes to run from one side to the other an' back!"

Five minutes at a run. That's tiny. You couldn't get anywhere around where I lived in five minutes unless you had wheels.

"Come on, Cecilia! You have to get in!"

I was snapped out of my thoughts by Achenar's hasty pushing. He was trying to get me into some sort of elevator. Once we were in, he pushed a glowing blue button. And then we started moving _up_.

"Achenar," I began uncertainly, "Are we underground?"

"Yup! The rooms are under the whole island! Nanna wrote it that way. She says it keeps the island safe an' stable."

"Safe and stable? In case of what?"

"I dunno. I heard Mother and Father talkin' about someone, though. And about this one Age. . . I think it was called 'Riven' or somethin'."

Riven? Someone? Were Atrus and Catherine hiding from someone? But I didn't have time to think on this, as the elevator had stopped and Achenar was pushing me out again. We were in. . . yet another hallway. It looked exactly the same as the ones that I had been staring at for the past two weeks. Yes, that's right, I was bedridden for two weeks. And, honestly, I really needed some sun.

Achenar led me down the twisting hallway. There were no doors or windows of any kind, so I had no idea what time of day it was. Finally, we reached. . . a wall. A blank wall. Well, almost blank. There was a painting of a small library hanging directly in the middle of the wall. It showed a fireplace, shelves, and more paintings. I looked closer. It was incredibly detailed. I could see the details in the brick and the individual books on the shelves. Were it not for the small size of the painting, I probably would have been able to read the titles of the books.

A small hand abruptly snaked it's way into my field of vision, startling me into taking a step back. I watched, curious, as Achenar placed his hand on the painting. At first, nothing happened. Then, the picture began to warp and curve out of place. The sound of clanking metal and groaning wood filled the hallway, and I watched as part of the wall folded down, creating steps. The other part of the wall slid into the ceiling. I stared, amazed, as I now faced the very library that I had seen in the paining.

Achenar jogged down the steps while I followed slowly behind. I looked around in awe at the shelves of books that lined the walls of the library. I picked one off a shelf and opened it. It was another one of those "Linking Books" that had brought me here. It showed a beautiful forest that had seemingly been flooded, making the trees seem like they'd grown out of the water itself. I closed the book and put it back on the shelf, careful not to touch the image.

The sound of clanking again filled the space I was standing in. I looked over at Achenar and saw that he had put his hand on yet another painting. This one showed a doorway leading outside. Out of the corner of my eye, I could see the stairway fold back up and I realized that the stairs were really a bookcase. Looking across the room, I could see another door opening. Achenar waved at me to join him, and I did so without hesitation.

The morning sun hit me full in the face as I stepped out of the library. A cool breeze blew, ruffling the grass and lazily pushing a few small clouds across the grey-blue sky. I was surprised to see that it was just after dawn; the sun sat upon the horizon, creating a twin in the blue ocean water. The light illuminated a small forest of tall red pine trees, one of which was almost twice as tall as the rest. I looked out to my left and saw another building, and beyond that was an old ship that looked like the kinds that pirates used to sail. All around me, I felt the tranquility of this place. The care that went into designing it, the balance of all the elements. . .

"It's pretty, isn't it?" asked Achenar.

I looked down at the small boy, then back at the sun.

"Yes. . . it's beautiful."

**A/N: Myst Island in all it's glory. Lucky for you people, I've already got the next chapter mostly written :D So, expect it soon!**


	4. No Place Like Home

**A/N: Another happy chapter for yooooouuuuu! XD Yeah, I'm pretty hyper right now. I'm on my second can of Mountain Dew. Yay for me, maybe not yay for you. I hope none of the caffeine-driven insanity made its way into my chapter. . .**

Devokan Tsahno

Chapter 3

No Place Like Home

_Two years later. . ._

Of all the Earthly things I had missed over the past few years, Nyquil was at the top of my list. People don't appreciate the things they have until they don't have them anymore. Medicine was one of those things. I mentally winced as another hacking cough found it's way out of my friend's throat. I put my pen down and looked at him.

"Atrus, my friend, shouldn't you be in bed?"

"Nonsense, Cecilia. It is nothing."

"It's been 'nothing' for the past three months, Atrus."

He said nothing. Instead, he turned back to the book he was reading. Despite myself, I smiled. He was reading the one thing that I had brought with me from Earth: "The Strange Case of Dr. Jekyll and Mr. Hyde". I was still holding it as I linked to Myst. Atrus was fascinated by Stevenson's tales, of which that book contained many. But my smile slipped from my face as I listened to yet another coughing fit.

"Atrus-"

"Why do you think he did it?"

"What?"

"Jekyll. He knew that Hyde was evil, yet he still drank the potion."

I knew that he was trying to distract me from his illness. He was like a little kid that distracted you with tales to delay his bedtime. I decided to humor him.

"I think that there was a small part of Jekyll that reveled in being Hyde," I said, "And that part had a loud enough voice to influence him."

Atrus pondered this a moment, then, "But was it really Jekyll speaking? Or was it Hyde?"

"Or was it Atrus trying to delay resting because he thinks he's fine, even though he isn't?"

"I _am _fine!" he protested, just as another cough took him. I raised an eyebrow. Atrus looked at me for a moment, then gave in.

"Alright, I will rest. Perhaps I will feel better in the morning."

* * *

Atrus' illness wasn't that hard to trace. He had been spending quite a bit of time on Stoneship. I had been to the Age only once, and I didn't much like it. It was cold, dreary, desolate, and uninviting. But it seemed to hold endless wonders for Atrus, who would sit for hours at his telescope, even though the endless fog and drizzle prevented him from seeing much. He was showing me plans for a lighthouse he wanted to build before the cold decided it liked Atrus better than Stoneship.

It was painful to watch the slow and steady downfall of Atrus' health. At first, it was nothing. A small cough, a little fatigue, nothing that had us very worried. Until that morning when we found Atrus unconscious on the dock with a raging fever, we had no idea that he was even ill. He didn't wake up until the following evening, delirious and frightened. I had to keep Sirrus and Achenar outside while Catherine and Anna tried to calm him down.

That was almost three months ago. Now, the symptoms of his illness came and went with the suddenness and unpredictability that one would usually only associate with teenage mood swings. One day, he would get through the day without a cough or complaint, and the next he would be bedridden with a burning fever and coughs that made even Anna wince. None of this was helped by Atrus' desire to act like nothing was happening. He wanted to Write and to work and to experiment. It was only at Anna's insistence that he even remained on Myst Island!

It shook me to the core, Atrus' illness. These past two years have been hard on me. I lost _everything_ the day I found the Myst Book. Everyone I loved, everything I knew. . . even my perceptions of reality had been skewed by the things I'd seen. Atrus worked hard to make the transition as smooth as possible. It was at his insistence that I began to learn D'ni, the language used to Write. He showed me his inventions, invited me on trips to his Ages, taught me basic concepts about the Books themselves. . . I was thrown into his world, but he made me feel like I had been invited to it. I began to regard Atrus not as a host, but as a dear friend and a sort of favorite uncle. You know, the uncle that you see only at holidays but you spend those holidays talking about everything, and at the next holiday you pick up the conversation right where you left off.

It was a good feeling, really. It was like I was a part of a real family. So much, in fact, that I was making myself sick worrying about _Atrus_ being sick. But I had to try to keep myself as upbeat and happy as possible. It was this thought that made me gather up my papers, pens, and ink bottle and walk back down the hallway to my room.

I smiled as I placed the papers on the desk in my room. It was the same room that I had first woken up in, though it looked much different now. At first, there was just a bed and a nightstand in the room. Now, however, there was a desk, a few chairs, a lamp, a wardrobe, and a bookshelf added to the small room. The few drawings on the wall gave the room a sense of personality. I looked at the nearest one and laughed quietly to myself.

It was one of Achenar's original creations. It showed Achenar, Sirrus, and me standing in front of the library, drawn with all the charm of an eight year old. It always made me smile, no matter how I felt or however bad a day I was having.

"Cecilia! Ceciliaaaaaaaa!"

Speaking of which. . .

"Cecilia! C'mon! Me an' Sirrus found a lizard!"

I laughed, saying, "Alright, alright. I'll be up in a second!"

* * *

"See, Cecilia? Isn't it pretty?"

It was. The lizard in question was bright yellow with smatterings of greens and browns. It was sitting complacently on the rim of the Eye Pool, sunning itself. Achenar was as close as he dared to get, staring intently at it. Sirrus was right next to me, clutching my hand partly in fear, partly in excitement.

"D'you think Father will let me keep 'im?"

I shook my head.

"I doubt it. Besides, don't you think it'd be happier out here, with its friends?"

". . . yeah, I guess."

"H-how do y-you know it has f-friends, Cecilia?" asked Sirrus. I smiled and kneeled down to his level.

"Because," I said, "Everyone has friends."

"Like Emmit an' Branch an' Will?"

"Yes, like them."

"Did you have friends? On Earth, I mean?" asked Achenar, sitting down on the grass. I sat, too, and watched with mild amusement as Sirrus climbed into my lap.

"I had a few friends."

"What were they like? Were they like you?"

"I suppose they were. My best friend, David, was a lot like me."

"Day-vid?" said Achenar, sounding out the unfamiliar name, "Is that a boy's name?"

"Yes, it's a boy's name."

"D-do you m-miss him?" asked Sirrus.

"Of course," I said, "All the time. But he probably has his own life now. He probably has forgotten about me."

Sirrus looked at me then, saying, "N-no one c-could forget you, C-cecilia."

I smiled and hugged him close. That's why I love the things little kids say. Whatever they say is said with such sincerity, because they usually only say what they truly mean. If only we were all like that.

**A/N: Yeah, I know this chapter was really short, but I needed to set a few things up. I would combine chapter, but the next chapter is too long to do that XD**

**Oh, and if you haven't already noticed, this story has "TEH UBER TIMESKIPS OF DOOOOM!". Beware. .. they pop up often :P**


	5. One Step Closer to Home

-1**A/N: Ok, this chapter was a pain in the arse. I had written this chapter first, but when I looked back at it, it didn't fit with the past chapters. So, I rewrote it. Again. Cheers to editing!**

**Bwahaha ph34r t3h l0ng ch5pt3r!!! (Fear the long chapter!!!)**

Devokan Tsahno

Chapter 4

One Step Closer To Home

"'Cil? 'Cil!"

I groaned and turned over in my sleep. Dimly, I perceived the sound of someone running around me.

"'Cil, g-get up!"

The person in question apparently was frustrated by my lack of movement. All at once, I felt the blanket being ripped off my body. A piercing light assaulted my eyes, causing me to jolt awake.

"Ahhrrrgg," I moaned, "It burns. . ."

A pair of high-pitched giggles sounded throughout the room, and I instantly knew who was to blame for my sleep's interuption.

"You two are _so_ dead when I get up. . ."

A startled "Eep!" sounded from one of them, and I heard them take flight from my room. I laughed and sat up, rubbing the sleep from my eyes. I stood up and stretched, glancing at the calendar that hung above my nightstand. I realized with a jolt that it was my birthday.

"Eighteen today, Cecilia," I said to myself, "You'd be a senior in high school this year, you know. You and David were supposed to walk together. Lucas is twelve now. Grandmama. . . Grandmama might be dead. . ."

I felt my eyes well up. I had been gone for two years. Two years! Two years in this place. . .

But as I thought about it more, I realized that these past two years have been nothing short of amazing. I had met a man who writes worlds ("_Links_ to worlds, Cecilia, not the worlds themselves," as he so often stressed to me.). I met a woman who seemed to know everything. I met another woman who's cooking is heaven sent. I met two amazing little boys who were always curious about everything. I saw fantastic places beyond my imagination. I smiled to myself. Yes, I had loved every minute.

As I dressed, I thought about the things I'd learned. D'ni was a beautiful language, though it was complicated to master. I remembered the first time that I spoke my first hesitant words to Atrus.

_I didn't even know if I was ready for this. I had been spending the past two months learning word after word, the alphabet, how to write. . . could I do this? I didn't know. But I was going to try._

_I found Atrus outside, fiddling with the Eye Pool and taking notes on whatever he was doing. I took a deep breath and walked over to him._

"_S-shorah, Atrus." I called, "Thoe kenem?"_

_Atrus looked up, surprised. Then, his face split into a wide, excited grin._

"_Ken ahgo, chev shem," he replied, "Thoe kenem?"_

"_Ken ahgo," I said, smiling through my nervousness._

"Cecilia!" called Catherine, cutting through my thoughts, "Breakfast is ready!"

"Alright, I'll be there in a minute!"

* * *

Breakfast was almost physically painful. Atrus, as usual, insisted on sitting with us. But his illness was hitting him hard today, as evident by the hacking coughs he would occasionally give out. Eventually, though, he had to excuse himself.

After breakfast, I returned to my room. To keep my mind away from Atrus' condition, I practiced D'ni for hours. It was comforting, really, to study something as beautiful as language. I probably would have sat in there all day. Eventually, however, someone interrupted my thoughts.

"'Cil?"

I turned my head slightly from where I was sitting on my bed. Sirrus was at the door. Standing next to him was Achenar, still as wild looking as ever. I motioned for them to come in.

Sirrus scrambled up on my bed and sat next to me, leaning against my headboard. Achenar sat at the foot facing us. We sat in silence like this for sometime, until Sirrus asked the question that I had been trying to force out of my mind for the past week.

"'Cil? I-is F-Father gonna d-die?"

I turned to him. His eyes were welling up with unshed tears. I gathered him up in my arms, where he started crying. I rubbed his back soothingly.

"I can't answer that, Sirrus. I wish I could."

Achenar scooted over to sit next to his brother.

"He can't die, Sirr," he said, "He's too strong for that, y'know!"

Sirrus wasn't buying it.

"Y-yeah, b-but he c-coughs r-really bad, a-and h-he's in b-bed all the t-time!"

I smoothed his ruffled hair.

"Atrus is a stubborn man, Sirrus. He won't go down without a fight, you know that!"

Sirrus' sobs slowly subsided. He nodded, content with my answer. . . for now. But I had an idea that Anna would be repeating this experience later (if she hadn't already).

"Achenar," I said to the older brother, "Why don't you take Sirrus outside and play for a while?"

He nodded and took his brother's hand. When the two left, I stood and gathered my pens and paper. I didn't want to work by myself anymore. With confidence that surprised myself, I strode to Atrus' room. I knocked on the door.

"Come in." I had almost missed it, his voice was so quiet. I opened the door, a little more cautious now. Atrus was propped up into a sitting position in his bed, three layers of blankets pulled up around him. A bowl of soup and some water were on his nightstand, balanced on top of several books. I sighed, sitting on the floor.

"Cecilia," he asked, "What is wrong?"

I debated telling him about Sirrus' fears. He did have enough to worry about, but. . . maybe it would help.

"Sirrus thinks your going to die," I said bluntly. He closed his eyes and sighed.

"What did you tell him?"

"I told him you were to stubborn to die."

Atrus laughed weakly.

"I'll talk to him - and Achenar - later. But I see you've brought something with you."

I held up a page of messy D'ni writing.

"Just this. I swear, my handwriting is bad in _all_ languages."

Atrus adjusted his glasses, then took the page from me. He squinted, translating my writing. He smiled, satisfied, then handed the page back to me.

"It's perfectly fine. I can read it with little trouble."

"And that's why you were squinting?"

"Your writing is small. I have trouble reading small writing."

I sighed and took the page from him. I shuffled through the pages, looking for a better example. Then,

"I think you're ready to learn to Write."

It took me a minute to process what he said. Then, his words actually reached my brain: Write? As in. . . y'know, Writing? Writing Ages? My jaw went slack. Atrus chuckled at my expression.

"Your writing is progressing well. Your vocabulary is extensive, your understanding is almost as good as any D'ni. . . yes, as soon as I am well, I'll begin to teach you. Besides, you already understand a few basic concepts. Anna said she taught you a few."

"Like what? I don't remember."

"Hand me your pages."

I handed him my ten or so pages of notes and practice writings. He read over each one carefully, then pulled out one and handed it to me, gesturing for me to read out loud.

"'Energy powers future motion. Dynamic forces spur change. Nature encourages mutual dependence. Balanced forces stimulate civilization.'"

I looked up from the paper.

"These are some of the things to keep in mind when writing Ages," Atrus said, "Many Ages have a base of some sort."

"Like Channelwood's base is nature?"

"Indeed."

I looked back at my writing. Two years. . . two years of workings. . . the sleepless nights studying, the rapid way we progressed. . . I did pick it up rather quickly, though. But. . .

"I don't think I can, Atrus. The vocab I know. . . it doesn't seem to _work_ for Ages, you know?"

"I know," he said, "The words you need to know to Write will be taught to you as you learn. I have found that practical application helps memorization. But the Art. . . the Art is a very difficult skill to learn. It will take years upon years of study to learn to Write, and even longer to learn to write well."

Writing. I was going to learn to _Write_. Maybe, just maybe, I could Write my way home again. . .

"How long did it take you to learn to Write?" I asked, now determined to learn everything.

"Hmmm. . . I would say about three years. But I am still learning, still experimenting. One never stops learning. When you stop learning, you close your mind to many possibilities. The doors to the future close and you are left with only what you have accomplished."

Atrus meant to sigh, I guess, but it came out as more of a yawn thing.

"Well, I suppose I should rest for a few hours," he said, "But I will wake later today. I have a special gift for you that I wish to give you today."

I smiled and nodded. I liked presents, yeah, but Atrus needed _rest_. But I had a feeling that he wasn't going to budge on this issue.

_Just go with it_, my brain told me, _Smile and nod, Cecilia. Smile and nod_.

The rest of the day passed without incident. I had my usual D'ni lessons with Anna (who told me that, yes, Sirrus had asked the "Is Atrus going to die?" question). I got yet another page of D'ni vocab to add to my growing collection. I get about a page a week, with each page containing twenty-five words. And at a page a week. . . as my father said, "I'm truckin'."

Catherine and I cooked lunch. Well, she cooked lunch. I watched. I can't cook. I'm almost as bad as Atrus, except that I mostly burned things. He usually made something tasteless or disgusting and _then_ burnt it. Which sometimes made it taste better. I still don't eat it.

Atrus walked into the "living room" a few hours later. It appeared that the hours of rest had done him some good. The dark circles under his eyes had receded somewhat, and he seemed much more relaxed. He looked at me, smiling at the mess I had made. About fifty pages of D'ni notes were scattered about me in piles. I was sitting cross-legged on the floor, one arm propped up on the small table to write.

"I see that you are working hard, my friend," Atrus stated, picking his way around the papers to the nearest chair. I laughed and began gathering my notes.

"Yeah. I decided to review my vocab. Of course, with all the vocab I have, it's going to take quite some time."

"Indeed," he said, "But now, I believe you need a break."

Suddenly, Sirrus and Achenar ran headlong into the room, crashing against Atrus in a huge hug. Atrus laughed, embracing his sons.

"Why hello," he said, "I did not know that my waking up was such a joyous occasion!"

"Yeah, but 'cause you're up, we can give 'Cil her presents now!" Achenar exclaimed.

"Achenar," said Catherine, who had appeared in the doorway, "I believe you have forgotten your present. . ."

Achenar's eyes widened.

"Oh! I forgot!"

He ran out of the room, almost running over Anna, who was trying to enter. She laughed.

"Ah, to have such energy as he has," she said, smiling.

Achenar returned almost as soon as he had left. He was carrying a box messily wrapped with purple paper and a ribbon that wasn't quite tied right. I loved it. He carefully put it on the table and sat next to me, looking up with expectant eyes.

"This one's from me an' Sirrus," he said. I felt said younger brother sit on my other side.

"C-c'mon 'Cil! O-open it!" he whispered.

I cast a sidelong glance at Atrus, who smiled and nodded. I took the box and carefully unwrapped it. I laughed. Inside was a painting of the Channelwood elevator, which was my favorite spot on Myst Island.

"Aw. . . did you paint this, Achenar?"

He grinned.

"Yup! Sirrus helped, too! He pained the wall an' the fence."

I smiled at the now blushing Sirrus.

"You did a very good job, Sirrus. I love it!"

Sirrus weakly smiled, then pointed to the box again.

"T-there's s-something else in t-there, t-to!"

There was indeed. I reached into the box and pulled out a beautiful color photograph. It was the first real picture taken with Atrus' "image recorder". Anna had taken it. Sirrus, Achenar, and I were sitting on the steps of the library, with Atrus and Catherine sitting behind us. Atrus' illness was in it's first stages then, barely noticeable. I had almost forgotten it.

"I love it. Thank you."

"But there's still more," said Atrus. He pointed to a large shape in the corner of the room. It was covered with a black cloth. I _had_ noticed it earlier, but I hadn't given it much thought. I assumed that it was part of another one of Atrus' crazy experiments. He had many such things dotted around the house, Myst Island, and various other Ages. I had learned to not ask, for if I did, I wouldn't understand half of what he said anyway.

Atrus walled over to the large shape and pulled back the cloth. I gasped. Underneath was a beautiful instrument, resembling a piano, but it wasn't. . . not in the Earth sense, anyway. The keys were all exactly the same, but the design was entirely different. It was longer and slightly rounded. I stood slowly and walked towards it. As I approached, I could see that the piano was made of a glossy black metal. I tapped it with my finger. I could hear a beautiful resonance. I closed my eyes, listening to the pure note.

"I haven't heard such music in a long time. . ." I murmured. I trailed my hands lightly over the shining white keys. Smiling to myself, I pressed down on a key. Instead of the usual string noise of an Earth piano, the instrument produced a crystalline note.

"It's beautiful, Atrus," I said. "Thank you. But what is it made out of?"

Atrus smiled, then opened the lid of the piano. Inside, there were crystals of various sizes suspended on thin silver strings. It appeared that, when a key was pressed, a small hammer would strike a crystal, producing that beautiful note.

"Those crystals. . . they're from Anai, right?"

Catherine nodded.

"Anna and I spent weeks trying to find those crystals," she said. "Then they had to be measured and cut. Quite a trial, I assure you. Those crystals are almost hard enough to scratch diamond."

"Thank you," I murmured, "For everything." I pressed down a few more keys, listening to the smooth melody.

"W-will you p-play for us, C-cecilia?" asked Sirrus. I smiled at him.

"Sure, why not?"

I sat down on the small piano bench. Letting my fingers rest lightly on the cool keys, I began to play. I was just improvising, really, but I never forgot the melody. It seemed to describe this place and everything in it, from its Ages to its people.

"What was that song called?" asked Catherine when I finished. I played the last few measures again.

I said, "It is called Myst."

**A/N: Yes, Cecilia was playing the Myst Theme for piano! I arranged it myself P I r proud.**

**Here's a translation of the D'ni spoken by Atrus and Cecilia:**

"**S-shorah, Atrus." Hello, Atrus**

"**Thoe kenem?" How are you?**

"**Ken ahgo, chev shem,"I am well, thank you.**

"**Ken ahgo,"I am well**


	6. Naray

-1**A/N: OMG FINALLY NEXT CHAPTER!!! You have no idea how hard this was for me to write. I think I started this chapter. . . what, two and a half weeks ago? And I just NOW got it done? Yeah. Happy times. I'm still not happy with it, but I'm going to post it just so I don't have to LOOK AT IT EVER AGAIN P**

Devokan Tsahno

Chapter 5

Naray

_Two years later. . ._

"Cecilia! Cecilia! Come on, we're late already and Father's going to be upset!"

"One moment!" I called. I hurriedly shoved some clothes into a bag along with my pens, practice book, sketchbook, and other assorted items.

"Cecilia!"

"Alright, alright! I'm on my way up!"

Today was a very special day. We were to visit one of Catherine's latest Ages. I loved visiting her worlds. They were always strange, mystical worlds full of life and beauty that often defied the normal bounds of scientific law. I knew that this Age would be no exception.

As I was running through the halls, I almost ran headlong into Anna, who was heading out of her own room.

"Cecilia," she said with a laugh, "There is no hurry. The Age will be there whether you get there right now or in ten minutes!"

I smiled.

"I know, Anna. But I'm so excited! I love visiting other Ages."

She patted me on the arm.

"I know, I know. And how is your Age coming along?" she asked as we started walking again.

"Slowly," I said, "I'm still planning everything out, but I have a good idea about what I want this Age to be."

"Oh? And what is that?"

"I want it to remind me of Earth," I explained, "But I also want it to have a surrealistic quality, like everything has been slightly warped in its perception."

"What part of Earth?" Anna asked.

"Japan. I love the old architecture. The colors, the symmetry. . ."

She smiled.

"I can picture it now, Cecilia. It will be a most beautiful Age."

"There you are! We were beginning to worry," joked Catherine as Anna and I entered the library. I looked beyond her to the table, where a burgundy-colored book lay. From here, I could just make out the gold letters on the front.

"Narayan?" I queried.

"An interesting name, no?" said Catherine, "It is a form of the word 'Naray'."

She must have seen the blank look on my face, for she simply laughed.

"Oh, you'll see," she said. She turned to Sirrus and Achenar, who were gazing with wonder at the Book on the table.

"Now, you two will behave while we're on Narayan, alright?"

"Yes Mother," the two chorused, eyes never leaving the Book.

Catherine reached out and gently opened the Book. The spine crackled and the faint smell of a brand-new book filled the air. From where I stood, I could somewhat see the Linking Panel. It glowed with a soft pink with spots of brilliant emerald green.

Catherine looked to Atrus, who smiled and nodded. Then, she linked. Atrus then lifted Sirrus up to the Book (for he was quite a bit shorter than the table) so that he could link along with him. Achenar followed. Then, I placed my own hand on the glowing picture. The now-familiar roar of the link filled my ears and the world faded to black.

The world I stood on was like nothing I had ever seen before. I opened my eyes to see a sea of pink clouds that stretched to the horizon. The sky was a light orange color, nearly blending in with all the wispy pink waves. Great green and blue trees offset the color scheme, their branches reaching out to touch the heavens. The metal floor clinked under my feet as I turned, taking in all that was this Age. . . all of Narayan.

"Come, come," Catherine said after Anna linked in, "There is much I wish to show you."

She led us down a flight of steps that took us into a large room. On the walls hung a few scarlet tapestries embroidered with golden symbols. I could see that this was a work in progress; a few more of the tapestries were carefully folded over the silver railings that encased part of the tree the room was built on. I had precious little time to look around, however, as Catherine was ushering us out onto the balcony, where a small ship on a line was waiting for us.

"This will take us to the Great Tree," she said, "The Great Tree is the Narayan capitol."

"Will this small boat hold all of us?" asked Atrus uncertainly, prodding the boat with his foot.

"Oh, do not fret, Atrus, I'm sure it is perfectly stable," remarked Anna, striding over to stand at the front. Sirrus and Achenar followed suit, playfully pushing each other out of the way to be the first one on. Atrus followed, stepping carefully on as though the whole thing would fall. I stepped on with Catherine, uneasy myself now that I saw how crammed we were. Catherine closed the little door and the ship started of its own accord.

It started slowly at first, then began to pick up speed. I could now truly see how far away we were from the Great Tree. Ten minutes later, we still were not getting much closer.

"Catherine," I asked, "How far away is the Great Tree?"

"Thirty minutes," she replied, gazing back out across the pink expanse. I sighed and sat on the floor on the boat.

I must have nodded off, because some time later, I was jolted awake by Achenar's excited shouting and Sirrus' protesting.

"Look! Look! You can _see_ it! Look how amazing that tree is! It's huge!"

"Ach'nar, I c-can't see!"

I stood up slowly, rubbing the sleep from my eyes. Looking up, I was confronted by a wall of green that seemed to stretch forever into the sky. Emerald-green tendrils formed a mass of platforms and walkways, while strange bubble-like things seemed to serve as buildings. And I could see people everywhere, milling about and gathering by the dock.

"Now remember," said Catherine to Sirrus and Achenar, "Be polite and courteous to all, especially the Elders. We are visitors here."

_Probably some fat balding guy with a nasally voice_, I thought, _It seems to always turn out like that. . . _

As we approached the dock, a figure stepped out of the crowd. He waited patiently as the ship slowly pulled up. Our small group gathered on the platform as he approached. The man held out his hands in a gesture of welcome. My earlier predictions had been mostly proven true. He was obviously old. The wrinkles on his aging face were so deep they cast shadows! He was also balding. Though, he wasn't fat. That was a plus.

"W-welcome," he said in shaky English, "I am Aalano. Welcome to Narayan."

We were treated to the grand tour of the Great Tree. He spoke mostly with Catherine, though, as she had been there before. The Tree was, without a doubt, the most beautiful place I've ever been to. Aalano, who was one of the Elders, explained that the buildings here were made by a complicated process called "Weaving". The more he explained it to us, the more confused I became. It involved grafting and puffer spores and things that I couldn't even put a name to. The only thing I understood was music. A flute was apparently played to collect the puffer spores.

"Now," said Elder Aalano, "I will show you to where you will be staying. You will be staying with one of our teachers."

I trailed along in the back of our group, trying to focus on the beauty of the tree and not on the aching of my feet. We were again led amongst the twisting paths until we arrived at a group of spores that appeared to be connected. I finally recognized it as a building with many rooms, and I realized that there were many such buildings dotted around the tree. Elder Aalano walked up to the door and gave a few sharp raps. There was a sound of scrambling inside, followed by a crash and what sounded like a muttered curse. Finally, the door was thrown open.

A man stood there, gold-blonde hair slightly frazzled, looking for all the world like a deer caught in headlights. Then, he looked down at his hands for a moment and realized that they were stained with black ink. He quickly grabbed a nearby rag and began trying to scrub his hands, muttering apologetically. Elder Aalano sighed and smiled, gently taking the rag from the man's hands.

"Saavedro," he said, "These are our guests. You remember Catherine, yes?"

The man looked up. His brilliant ice-blue eyes rested on each of us for a moment. His gaze was warm, yet apprehensive. Finally, he spoke.

"G-good morning, Catherine. I have been studying your language. It is. . . well, yes?"

Catherine smiled, taking Saavedro's hands in greeting.

"Yes, Saavedro, your speech is progressing remarkably."

He gave a half-hearted smile, then stood back, gesturing for us to enter. As we did, he spoke a few words to the Elder, who nodded and left.

I gazed around the room in awe. The sun filtered through the ceiling of the room, casting the room in a pink glow. There were tables everywhere, each with its own stack of books that appeared to be very old. I looked at the title of the nearest one, but it was in a language I didn't understand. I heard the door softly shut behind me with a click. I turned to see Saavedro standing with his back almost pressed against the doorway. He seemed to be a very nervous, jittery person.

"Welcome to my home," he murmured, staring at the ground.

"Saavedro," said Catherine softly, walking over to lay a comforting hand on Saavedro's shoulder, "This is my family. This is Atrus, my husband. His grandmother, Anna. These are my two sons, Achenar and Sirrus. And this. . . this is our family friend, Cecilia."

I waved a little. He gave the smallest flicker of a smile, then spoke again.

"It is. . . good to meet you all. I am. . . honored to have you in my home."

"No, no," said Atrus, "The honor is all ours."

"Elder Aalano tells us you are a teacher, Saavedro," said Anna. "What subject do you teach?"

"I. . . teach Narayan language and history."

My eyes lit up at the mention of language. _Language_! If music was my soul, then words were my passion. I had taken two years of French in high school, and I had loved every day of it. When I first started learning D'ni, the first thing I did was make up little songs to sing to myself to help me remember. And now, here was a man who _taught_ language! My face split into a wide grin in spite of myself. I saw Saavedro glance over at me and my probably crazy-looking smile.

"You. . . you are. . . Cecilia?" he asked. I toned down the "SMILE!" and nodded.

"Yes, that's right."

"Catherine. . . she tells me that. . . you enjoy learning. . . yes?"

"Of course!" I said, "One can never stop learning."

Saavedro smiled the first real smile that he had given all day.

"Then we shall begin."

**A/N: Yes, chapter of DOOOOOOOM has arrived! I know I pushed Saavedro's age quite a bit. 21 is the absolute oldest he could have been at this time.**


	7. Alani

-1**A/N: Ok, since I figured that some people are going to get confused after a while, here's a recap of people's ages:**

**Atrus: 32**

**Catherine: Somewhere around 32**

**Sirrus: 8**

**Achenar: 11**

**Cecilia: 20**

**Saavedro: 21**

**Anna: 85 oO**

**And I feel the need, again, to point out the fact that this story is AU. Alternate Universe. Not Canon Friendly. As in, I am changing almost everything I can. I like doing that. More entertaining for me, hopefully just as entertaining for you:P**

Devokan Tsahno

Chapter 6

Alani

I think I finally realized why Catherine wrote Narayan in this way.

This thought came to me as I was sitting on a branch that was hanging over the pink abyss below. I had no fear of falling; the branch was as wide as I was tall. I looked out to the horizon and took a deep breath. The air was sweet and pure, much better than that of some other Ages I've been to. The atmosphere was relaxing, there were never any storms, and the wind was always calm. Yes, this was a recovery Age. An Age to go to if one was sick, or sick of life. There were no impurities here to muddy the body or mind.

And Atrus had been recovering here. There were little signs of illness now. Here on Narayan, he was getting plenty of rest, though he was always out and about doing _something_. But that was Atrus' way, I suppose. I doubt he could sit still for an _hour_, let alone for the two weeks we'd been here.

I looked down at the book I was reading. It was a Narayan children's storybook, meant for Saavedro's younger students. He gave the book to me after I could actually understand enough to read it. Though, I haven't made much progress with it. The symbols of the language looped and twisted, making it hard for my eyes to follow.

"'Narayani is like a tree,'" I recited aloud, remembering what Saavedro had told me, "'All the branches are connected.' Yeah, but I still can't read it. . ."

"I should become a better teacher, then."

I whipped my head around so fast I probably got whiplash from it. Saavedro was standing behind me, grinning madly. Tamra was standing next to him, trying hard not to laugh. I smiled. I had met Tamra a few weeks back. She was an easy-going, outspoken person, rather much like Saavedro (who had calmed down quite a bit after the first few days of us being here). She was also his. . . I suppose 'girlfriend' is too much of an Earth term to be applicable, but they are not engaged. . . yet.

"You're a perfectly acceptable teacher, Saavedro," I said, "I'm just having troubles, that's all. How is Anna?"

The grin slid from Saavedro's face.

"Stable. . . for now. Our healer's methods seem to be effective, but there's only so much we can do. She is. . . very old, you know."

For as much as Atrus' health had been improving, Anna's had been decline. No one could fine rhyme or reason for it. But, perhaps it was just her age, as Saavedro said.

Saavedro sat next to me, and Tamra on the other side of him. We sat there for some time, gazing at nothing, until Tamra spoke.

"You will be leaving soon, yes?"

I nodded.

"Three days. Atrus and Catherine want to bring Anna back to Myst. Atrus is . . ." I hesitated. I didn't want to say it, for that seemed to make it an absolute reality, the likes of which I didn't want to face. Saavedro looked at me sympathetically and finished my thought.

". . . falling apart. Yes, I have seen it, too. I am. . . afraid for him."

It was my turn for sympathy now. Over the past two weeks, Saavedro and Atrus had become quite close. Both shared a passion for writing and would spend hours pouring over dusty old tomes and newer manuscripts. Catherine had to literally drag the two away from the library so that they would do healthier things like eat and sleep. But when Anna's illness finally had her bedridden, Atrus spent more and more time with her and less with the world. It didn't come as much as a shock to anyone, but. . .

"Cecilia?"

I looked behind me, startled out of my thoughts. Atrus was hovering behind me, looking exhausted. His face was pale and the dark circles ran completely around his eyes. Even though his long coat was closed, I could tell he was painfully thin. Neither food nor sleep could coax him from his grandmother's side. Until now.

"Cecilia," he murmured, "I'm taking Anna back to Myst tonight. Within the hour, if possible."

I stood up instantly, gathering my things as I went, saying, "I'll come with you."

"No," he said, forcefully and slightly panicked, "This is something I need to do. Alone."

I nodded mutely, watching as he turned on his heal and walked off. My mind rushed to catch up with what exactly occurred. If Atrus was taking Anna back to Myst, then that meant. . . no. No, no, no!

"No. No!" I murmured, growing hysterical, "No! This can't be happening! No, no, no, no, NO!"

I sank to my knees, staring out at the now blood-red sunset sky. The tendrils of clouds that were once beautiful now took on a sinister edge, an omen of the pain that would soon invade our lives once again. Only this time, we'd be one soul short. I closed my eyes against the scene.

I felt someone sit beside me. Strong arms wrapped me in a warm embrace. I cried into the person's shoulder, crying for all we had lost and all I knew we were going to loose. It was if as though, in preparation for all the pain that was to come, I wanted to get all the crying done _now_, where almost no one could see.

As my sobbing quieted, I began to perceive a haunting melody. It seemed to come from all around; above and below; from the tree, the clouds, and the sky. Soon, the melody formed into words.

_Memondama Naray. . ._

_Naray latiste t'dee. . ._

"What is that?" I murmured. Opening my eyes, I could see that it was Saavedro who was comforting me. He looked across to the tree, eyes trailing across the branches.

_Memondama Naray. . ._

_Nosis amani azhwa na. . ._

"Narayan is singing," he whispered.

_Memondama ami soule. . ._

_Memondama ami soule. . ._

_Nosis amani azhwa na. . ._

_Memondama Naray. . ._

"Narayan is singing for Anna."

**A/N: Sorry this particular chapter took so long. I've been uber busy with school-type things.**

**Here's the translation for the song thing:**

_**Memondama Naray. . .**_**Remember Narayan**

_**Naray latiste t'dee. . .**_**Narayan, whose lattice tree is life**

_**Nosis amani azhwa na. . .**_**I think of you with joy**

_**Memondama ami soule. . .**_**Remember my heart**


	8. What Do You See?

**A/N: I don't know what to say about this chapter. It was simply hard to write, both technically and emotionally.**

Devokan Tsahno

Chapter 7

What Do You See?

_Tick, tick, tick, tick. . ._

The soft ticking of the clock was not at all loud, but the sound seemed to boom in my ears. The slow metronome matched the beat of my heart. It was strange that I was so calm then. By all accounts, I should be crying and tearing my hair out in frustration and sorrow. But I had shed tears enough, and I had cried with others. Now. . . now was the awful acceptance, that dim knowledge that it was going to happen no matter what. Now was the ominous wait, the ticking of the seconds, the passing of the hours.

I started as the clock began the slow, soft chime of the hour's passing. Three tones. . . so it was three in the morning. I have been sitting here for nine straight hours. Nine hours passing by like nine lifetimes. I didn't want to spend those nine lifetimes alone, but it seemed unavoidable. Sirrus and Achenar were asleep, Catherine wished to be alone, and Atrus was with Anna. Anna. . .

How could I even begin to express my gratitude to this woman? All that she had done for me. . . for all of us. Her good deeds and kind words were too many to name. It was she who insisted I learn D'ni. She and Catherine helped make the piano for my eighteenth birthday. Anna told amazing stories and sang beautiful songs and taught me so much about life. Her wisdom and good humor carried us all through dark times. . . but she was leaving soon. . .

_Oh, look at you, Cecilia_, I thought, _You're already trying to cover it up. Just say it out loud and get it over with!_

"She's dying." I whispered aloud. "Anna is dying."

Saying it out loud seemed to finalize it. And yet, it still did not bring tears. I felt. . . empty. Devoid of emotion. I leaned my head against the headboard and closed my eyes, mind drifting back to everything that Anna had done.

* * *

"_Cecilia, dear?"_

_I looked up from my book and saw Anna in the doorway. She was carrying a large wooden tub filled with clothes._

"_Cecilia, would you mind helping me with the laundry today?"_

"_No, no, not at all," I nodded, putting my book down and picking up my own pile of dirty laundry and carrying it with me outside._

_Laundry Day was an interesting time on Myst. Or rather, it should be called Cleaning Day. One day a week, Atrus took Sirrus and Achenar to some Age or another so that Anna and Catherine could clean the house. The first time I heard this, I thought it rather interesting, and I wanted to help, but I had been too injured and sick. Even though it was routine work, I felt honored to be included._

_Anna set the large basin down by the Eye Pool. This pool, I learned, was the main source of fresh water for the island. It never ran out, though I do not know how that could be._

_Anna took the dirty clothes and dumped them in the grass, then turned to me, holding a bucket._

"_Cecilia, why don't you fill the tub up with water while I sort these clothes?"_

"_Alright, sure," I nodded, taking the bucket. The chore was a lot harder than I expected, considering I had to work around the large boat that, for some reason, could not be removed. I thought it strange that it was floating, because any other time I saw the boat, it was stuck at the bottom. I mentioned it to Anna, who laughed and said,_

"_Atrus must be on Stoneship Age, then. He made a special place for that Age, and that little boat is the key to getting to it."_

_I was thoroughly confused at that point, but decided not to ask any more questions. We continued our chore in silence for a time, until Anna decided to ask a question of her own._

"_Cecilia. . . the area where you grew up. . . what did it look like?"_

_I didn't immediately respond. Home was still a touchy subject, all things considering. But Anna really seemed to want to know._

"_Well. . . I lived in the middle of a desert. Not the kind of desert where there's mostly sand, but there was hardly ever any rain. There wasn't very many plants, either. Mostly cactus and the like. It is said that only rocks grow in New Mexico."_

"_And you said that there was a volcano?"_

"_Yeah, an extinct one. It wasn't very big."_

"_And this volcano. . . did it have a tunnel leading from the crater?"_

_I thought a minute, then, "Yeah. . . actually, it did. I explored it a little, but it only goes down about thirty yards, then there's a rock wall. . . or rather, something that looks like a rock slide. I think it did go further, but I couldn't move any of the rocks. Why?"_

"_Oh, no reason. It just sounded much like where I grew up."_

"_That's not possible though, right?"_

_She turned to me with a sad smile._

"_My dear, anything is possible."_

* * *

"_Well, Anna? What did he say?"_

_Anna's face broke into a wide grin as she took both my hands in hers._

"_My dear, you will learn D'ni. Atrus considers it a good idea."_

_The grin on my face nearly matched hers as I took the news. I had asked Atrus before about possibly learning D'ni, but I hadn't yet gotten a straight answer out of him. Finally, I went to Anna and asked her to speak with him, and I was glad I did._

_But as I thought about it more, I had a sudden feeling of dread. Even as I thought through it more, I could feel the smile drop from my face and my hands drop to my side._

"_Cecilia?" asked Anna, concerned, "What is wrong?"_

_I could not speak for a moment. Then, my voice shaking,_

"_Anna. . . is Atrus teaching me D'ni because he doesn't think I'll be going home?"_

"_Oh, Cecilia dear," Anna murmured, pulling me into her embrace, "Atrus did not mean it like that. He knows you love to learn, and he thought you would like a new project, that's all._

_She pulled away from me and looked into my eyes. I could not meet her gaze as I hastily wiped the tears that threatened to fall._

"_I'm sorry," I laughed softly, "I'm acting silly."_

"_You are not acting silly," Anna lightly scolded. "You are acting as any young woman would in your situation. Now, would you like to get started on your D'ni?"_

_I looked up in surprise._

"_Yes, I am teaching you D'ni. I need to find a few of my old books first, however. Shall we?"_

* * *

"_Cecilia, come here."_

_I stepped quietly into the room, softly closing the door behind me. Anna was laying in bed, her face ashen and her skin drawn tightly over her bones. She looked so weak. . . I almost started crying right there. But I remembered the silent promise I made to the Narayan sky, and I remained silent. I sat on the floor close to the bed._

"_Cecilia. . . you are. . . a remarkable young woman," Anna said, breath labored, "I am. . . very proud of you. . ."_

_I smiled slightly._

"_Thank you, Anna."_

"_Your Age. . . do you have a name?"_

"_Amateria, Anna."_

_She closed her eyes._

"_It is. . . a beautiful name. Describe it for me. . . please."_

"_It is an island, Anna. It is entirely supported on hexagonal stone. Some of the stones have crystal veins running through them. The sky is kept in perpetual sunset, so everything glows beautifully on the west side. To the east, there are thunderstorms, but it rains on the island only rarely. There is a small, green pond and a place where the rocks form spires on the sea and there are a few beautiful buildings. . . at least, that is what I see."_

_Anna smiled, eyes still closed._

"_And that, too, is what I see."_

* * *

The soft click of a door closing jolted me awake, yet I do not remember falling asleep. I lay there in the darkness and listened. I heard the subtle sound of someone leaning against the wall and slowly sinking to the floor. A low, haunting note of pure despair pervaded the room, punctuated by harsh sobs that were only ever uttered by those who had lost the world. I hadn't realized that I had been crying too, until I heard another low sob that I recognized as my own. My vision blurred and I couldn't breath. I felt as though a thick fog had rolled in an was trying to choke the life out of me.

Without words or looks, Atrus had announced the one moment we had all been dreading for weeks: Anna was gone.

* * *

There wasn't a funeral. At least, not in the usual sense. Atrus dug a grave under a tree near the water and marked it with a simple marble block inscribed "Ti'ana". We all individually paid our respects in one way or another. But, despite Anna's insistence that we continue to live, I could only watch in despair as things started to fall apart around me.

Atrus had retreated into his work. This was not unusual for him, though. It was simply his way. Now, however, he never said a word and we hardly saw him, save mealtimes.

Catherine. . . Catherine blamed herself. _She_ had written Narayan and Anna had become ill there. She felt that she had inadvertently caused Anna's death. She, too, went into seclusion.

Achenar was still, for the most part, Achenar. He tried his hardest to remain strong for everyone, but, as he still wore his heart on his sleeve, it was easy to tell that he was an emotional.

And Sirrus. . . what had happened to him was completely the opposite of what I had ever expected.


	9. Why So Silent?

**A/N: If this is what happens when I take long gaps in my writing, I should do so more often. Of course, I would probably get a few. . . comments. . . about my unexcused laziness. . . ah well. Another long chapter for you to enjoy! **

Devokan Tsahno

Chapter 8

Why So Silent?

"Sirrus? Sirrus, it's time to get up."

He didn't move. I knew he was awake, though, because I could see his eyes staring blankly at the wall. I leaned against the doorway for a moment, watching him. Then, I walked over and sat at the edge of the bed. I was silent for a while longer, absentmindedly smoothing out the wrinkled blanket.

Then, in a whisper, "Sirrus?"

He turned his head slightly to look at me. His gaze was. . blank. There wasn't any emotion in his eyes. Understanding, yes, but not feeling any of it. The first time I saw this look, I could not hold eye contact for long. It was so. . . unlike an eight year old boy. In my experience with younger brothers, I had noticed that they wore their hearts on their sleeves. But it seemed now that Sirrus didn't have a heart to wear.

"Come on, Sirrus," I said gently, "It's time for breakfast."

No reply, save a nod. That, too, was another thing I had to get used to. In the year since Anna's death, he had not spoken a single word to anyone, not even Achenar. It was as if his voice. . . no. It was as if _he_ died with her.

I left him alone to get ready for the day. I wandered down the hallway then, poking my head in to Achenar's room. He was standing near his desk, watering the abundance of potted plants he kept at his desk.

"Good morning, Achenar. Did you sleep well?"

He looked up at me and gave a small smile.

"Good morning, Cecilia. Yes, I slept well. And you?"

"Well enough."

Another change to the daily routine: Achenar's newfound maturity. Like Sirrus' silence, this, too, sprung from the pain of Anna's death. Silence, maturity, distant understanding. . . these things were unnatural and certainly unexpected for two boys of twelve and nine.

"Has he spoken?"

I blinked, returning to reality.

"What?"

"Sirrus. Has he said anything yet?"

I sighed, saying, "No. Not yet."

His gaze dropped from mine as he turned to tend to his plants. He seemed to think for a moment, then,

"Do you think he ever will?"

"I don't know, Achenar. I don't know."

* * *

_Cecilia, Catherine and I have gone to Narayan for a few days. Tamra is almost due, and we wanted to be there for her and Saavedro. I trust that you can take care of things for a while?_

_-Atrus_

I smiled as I put the note back on the dining room table. Saavedro and Tamra had gotten married about a month after Anna's death. Not that we couldn't see it comming, of course.

I felt a tap on my shoulder. I turned to see Sirrus standing beside me. He gestured at the note questioningly.

"Atrus and Catherine went to Narayan," I said, "Tamra's baby is due any day now."

He nodded and gestured towards the elevator that would to take us to the library, but I shook my head.

"He seems to want us to remain here until he returns."

Sirrus shrugged and sat down as Achenar meandered into the room.

"Good morning, Sirr," Achenar said to him. Sirrus gave a small smile and waved, then began making a series of hand gestures I didn't understand. Achenar smiled and nodded, apparently understanding.

"What was that all about?" I said as Achenar and I moved to the kitchen to try to make some semblance of breakfast. I still couldn't cook very well, but Achenar took to it like a duck to water. His only real restriction was the stove; he still needed supervision.

"Oh, it's just the way Sirr talks," Achenar said, rummaging around the cupboards. "Drat, we're out of flour. . . we'll have to go to market today. . ."

"And you understand him?" I asked, amazed at the two's ingenuity.

"Oh sure," Achenar said, trying to find a temporary substitute for the absent flour, "He makes up new words all the time. He has a good list going. He teaches them to me. Hmm. . . hey, Sirr! Could you get some of those maroon berries from my room?"

A knock sounded, then the sound of footsteps as Sirrus left the dining room.

"And I suppose that's another form of communication?" I said, amusement growing.

"Mm-hmm. One knock for 'yes,' two for 'no,'. We came up with it after we realized that the gestures don't work if we can't see each other."

Footsteps again, and Sirrus appeared in the doorway with a handful of the berries.

"Thanks, Sirr," said Achenar, taking the small berries and throwing them in the improvised batter. Sirrus pointed to it with one hand and made a small movement with the other. Achenar laughed.

"I'm using cornmeal instead of flour, so I'm not too sure how it's going to turn out. Hence, the berries."

Sirrus smiled slightly, then returned to the dining room. Once out of earshot, Achenar turned back to the stove with a sigh.

"That's about as emotional as Sirrus gets now," I said, sensing the question.

"I know, I know," said Achenar, not wanting to meet my gaze, "But I still want him to laugh. At least once."

I ruffled his hair affectionately.

"Hey, we're going to the market today, right? Maybe we can figure something out."

"I hope so."

* * *

_Atrus,_

_We're out of flour and a few other necessities. Achenar, Sirrus, and I are going to the market on Jhoun. We'll be back at the end of the day._

_-Cecilia_

Sirrus read the note over my shoulder. As I set it on the table, he repeated the earlier gesture, which I had begun to recognize as a "Why are you doing that?" type of question.

"Just in case they come back to check on us."

Sirrus nodded, then pointed to the pack he carried, indicating that he was ready to go.

"Good. Is Achenar already up there?"

Another nod. I smiled, slinging my own pack over my shoulder.

"Good. Let's go."

* * *

The three of us linked in over a half a mile away, but we could still hear the noise of the huge market as we walked down the road. Jhoun was a market Age that Atrus wrote years before I had ever arrived. Though I had been more times than I could count, it still amazed me. The huge open air market covered an area of almost three square miles. It was divided into sections by low walls and roads so that people could find what they were looking for easier. And you could find _everything_ here. 

"So. . . what are we getting besides flour?" Achenar said, pulling our moderately-sized wagon along behind him.

"Well, I need more cloth scraps, paper, and quills. . . Sirrus, do you need anything?"

Sirrus turned to Achenar and make a few elaborate gestures. Achenar nodded and turned back to me.

"He says he needs a new screwdriver and more copper wires."

I glanced at Sirrus, saying, "What happened to your old one?"

Sirrus mimed being angry and throwing it. He then showed the path of said airborne screwdriver and its eventual landing in the sea. I laughed and shook my head.

"Alright, alright, we'll get a new one. Anything for you, Achenar?"

"No, I'm good."

As we rounded the side of a cliff face, we suddenly found ourselves on a flat plain which, in reality, was just a valley nestled amongst cliffs and hills. It was here that the great Market at Jhoun was built. I gave a nod to the guard as the three of us entered the gate.

All at once, we were hit by the sights and sounds of the crowded street. All around I could hear vendors shouting about their bargains and wares. The three of us ducked down a side street and maneuvered through the stalls until we found the one we were looking for. An old woman was sitting in a small corner stall, bags of flour propped precariously against the wall.

As we approached the stall, the old woman looked up, turning her sightless eyes upon me.

"Who? Who eez there?" she said suspiciously in her thick accent.

"It's me, Grandmama Keati," I said loudly over the din of the market. The woman's face broke into a wide grin.

"Ah! Eet eez Cecilia! How be you theez fine day?"

I laughed, saying, "I am well today, Grandmama."

Keafi, or Grandmama as I affectionately called her, was our main source of resources in Jhoun. She sold all the basics here, from flour to cloth to pots and pans. What she couldn't get, she traded for. But often, people would take advantage of the blind old lady and make off with a sack or two before she could stop them.

"That eez good!" she said, "And who eez with you?"

"Sirrus and Achenar, Grandmama."

"Ah! The youngest ones! But Atrus and Cathreen not weeth you?"

"Not today, Grandmama."

Keati shook her head and sighed.

"'Tis shame young Atrus not come. I has someteeng special for heem. But, you come for flour, yes? And you bring fineeshed blanket, yes?"

I pulled out the quilt that Catherine had made, as well as some of the berry cornbread that Achenar had made that morning.

"Here is your blanket, Grandmama. And also, I brought some bread that Achenar made this morning."

Keati smiled as she took the items from me.

"I thank you, Acheenar. You are kind to theez old woman. Perhaps I have someteeng special for you, yes? And for Seerrus as well?"

Keati turned from us to the shelves of things behind her. Rummaging around, she pulled out two books. One I could see was about plants, and the other was about mechanics.

"Heere you go! Two books for two groweeng boys!"

Achenar thanked Keati as he took the books from her, putting them gently in the cart.

"Any time, dears," she said, "Now, eez there anyteeng else you need?"

"Hmm. . . cloth scraps, quills, and paper."

"Cloth scraps I have plenty of," she said, "Heere's your next batch."

She gave me a large sack.

"But queells and paper I do not have. Try Mortyn een Northblock. He sells teengs like that."

"Thanks, Grandmama. Do you know where we can find a screwdriver and copper wires?"

"Naera. Westblock."

I smiled. I was fully convinced that Keati knew everything and everyone here. And, most importantly, who had the cheapest wares on any given day.

"Thank you, Grandmama."

I turned to go, then paused.

"You said you had something for Atrus?"

But Keati shook her head.

"No, no. You tell Atrus I have someteeng for him. Eef he wants eet, he come get eet heemself. Tell heem that Grandmama Keati tell heem 'No more mopeeng.'"

"Alright, Grandmama," I said, but I was positive it wouldn't go over too well.

* * *

The sun had almost set on Myst Island by the time we linked back. By the time we had finished putting everything away, it was quite late at night. I went back upstairs after I saw Sirrus and Achenar off to bed. 

I sat outside on the rim of the Eye Pool, letting the cool breeze wash over my face.

"'No more moping,' says Grandmama Keati," I said aloud to no one, "What if she's right, Atrus? You still have so much life to live, so much to do."

My musings were cut off by the roar of a link. I sprang up and raced for the library, excited for news. But as Atrus came out to meet me, I knew that whatever news I was hoping for wasn't good news.

I slowed my mad running to stop just in front of him.

"Atrus? What happened?" I said.

Atrus said nothing for a moment. Then, he took both my hands in his, raised his head to meet my gaze, and said,

"Cecilia. . . the baby did not make it."

I stared at him, horrified.

"What?"

"Catherine. . . Catherine is staying with them for a few days more."

"But why didn't you? You're Saavedro's closest friend, why didn't you-"

"Because I couldn't," Atrus said sharply. The tone stunned me enough to allow Atrus to release my hands and walk back into the house. I could do nothing but watch him go.

All at once, I felt this terrible anger. I wanted to shout and scream and tell everyone exactly what's on my mind. I wanted to call Atrus back and tell him exactly what I thought of the whole thing. I wanted to _fling_ Keati's words back at him.

And then, I felt ashamed at my thoughts. Anna had died not more than a year ago, and yet I seemed to want Atrus to bounce right back to his old self! I knew that couldn't happen. But. . .

I was terribly confused by the whole thing. And so, I did the only thing I could do: I went to sleep.


	10. Fractured

**A/N: The chapter that was, what, three weeks in the making in finally here! Yay! Enjoy! Exclamation point!**

Devokan Tsahno

Chapter 9

Fracture

_I've been sitting here for an hour_, I thought. _And still. . . nothing_.

I laughed to myself, thinking, _How silly I must look, sitting outside his study on a chair I pulled from my room, a book on my knee and papers in a pile on the floor._

I was optimistic, though. I had checked over it as many times as I could (though, I wish I could have checked it more). I was truly, truly excited. After all, it _was_ my first Age. I couldn't wait to see how everything looked, to see if the picture I had in my mind was real. But, alas, I _did_ have to wait for Atrus.

I got up to pace again. Absentmindedly, I started singing under my breath.

"Shehmtee l'mor,

D'ni, rehgahn gahro

Gahth tsahv

Ahreeuhahl rehsehv

B'tahg seht shorah-"

I was abruptly cut off by the soft sound of the door being opened. I couldn't stop the excited grin that made it's way across my face. I felt like jumping up and down for joy, but I was twenty-one years old, not twelve. So I just pictured myself jumping up and down as I stood in front of the door with the stupid smile plastered to my face.

Atrus' usually disheartened face flickered with a shadow of a smile as he handed me two Books. I eagerly reached out and took them, eyeing the shining gold letters that emblazoned the front.

"Amateria will be a beautiful Age, Cecilia," Atrus said as I looked at the other Book, a blue-green Myst Book, "I hope you enjoy it to its fullest."

He turned to go back into his study.

Suddenly panicked, I shouted, "Wait! Wait, aren't you coming with me?"

Atrus paused a moment, then, "No. No, I can't, I'm. . . busy. Busy writing."

"Busy? _Busy_? Atrus, this is my Korfah V'jah! Surely you can-"

"No."

"But-"

"_No_, Cecilia!" Atrus said sharply. Then, seeing the hurt on my face, he sighed.

"Cecilia, know that I would love nothing more than to see your Age, but. . ." he paused, looking away. Then, "I'm very proud of you."

With that, he entered his study and shut the door.

I stood there, fury coursing through my veins. How _dare _he! How could he do this? This one request . . . this most special, most precious of days. He wouldn't do _this_ for me?

At that moment, I didn't care about being nice. I didn't care about being polite or being respectful. I didn't even care how immature I was being. I felt angry tears at the edges of my eyes. Then, I let go everything that I had been feeling over the past year since Anna's death.

"Torn f'shehm, Atrus!" I screamed at the closed door. Then, so as to hide my tears, I turned and ran.

* * *

I did not go to Amateria that day, nor for a long time afterwards. I couldn't even bear to see the Book itself, and so I put it on a high shelf, behind other books. I felt betrayed and more alone than I had ever been. A small part of me scolded for being selfish, but I didn't think I had asked much.

I walked the house and the island like a zombie, eyes cast downwards, avoiding Atrus whenever I could. The little conversation we had was strained and overly polite. We had been reversed back to strangers, and the thought made my heart break. Yet, I could not forgive him. Nor could I really forgive Catherine, who also refused to accompany me to Amateria.

Achenar, bless his heart, did not ask me what happened, nor did Sirrus. But I know, too, that they avoided their parents. They knew that something had happened between Atrus and I, and they resented him for it. I hated it; I felt like I had taken them away. They kept near me as much as they could, helping me with anything I needed, but never asking. Until one day, three weeks later.

"Cecil?"

"What is it, Achenar?" I said, smiling over the edge of my book. He had given me the nickname quite some time ago. I had patiently explained to him that it was a boy's name, but it stuck.

Achenar faltered for a moment, whispering, "Ahh. . . hmm. . . uh, Sirr?"

Sirrus looked up from his paper, simply looking at him. Achenar sighed, frustrated.

Then, "CanwequitepossiblygotoAmateria?"

I blinked, trying to decipher this. It was a question, I knew that much. I looked back at Achenar.

"Again, please?"

"Can we. . . quite possibly. . . go to Amateria?"

I was about to open my mouth to disagree and protest, but then I stopped. Atrus had done the same thing to me. _He _hadn't wanted to go to my Age with me. _Catherine_ didn't want to go with me. But Sirrus and Achenar really wanted to go. They wanted to share this with me, my first Age.

"Alright," I said, standing up, "We'll go."

The two stared for a moment, stunned.

"Errm," Achenar murmured, unsure, "Alright. When are we leaving?"

"Tomorrow morning."

* * *

I left it up to Achenar to tell Atrus and Catherine where we were going. I didn't want to speak to either of them on the subject of Amateria. Achenar relayed to me that they didn't mind.

_Of course they didn't_, I thought bitterly as I helped Sirrus pack. _Did they even hear the question_?

But I shoved such thoughts aside in an effort to cultivate some excitement about visiting my Age. But, in truth, I wasn't as excited as I should have been. I felt. . . obliged to visit Amateria. Like I had to, not wanted to.

I glanced over to the open book on the desk. The linking panel glowed with the colors of the afternoon sun, casting odd shadows in the darkened room. I stared at it for a few minutes, mind alternating between irritated comments towards Atrus and wondering what all I would find when I got there.

Suddenly, I felt a presence at my side and a hand on my shoulder. I turned my head a little to see Sirrus next to me while Achenar hovered in the doorway.

Composing myself, I turned to look at them fully.

"Well," I said softly, "Are you ready?"

A nod from the two of them sent my feet moving towards the Book. Each step, my mind flashed back to the past five years, how much things had changed for me. It all came back down to this, this one defining moment. I reached my hand out, hovering over the linking panel. Then, with a deep breath, I placed my hand to the picture and surrendered to the darkness.

* * *

The first thing I perceived was the smell of the sea, for it was not the usual fishy smell that seas have. It was fresh and new, with a tint of something else unexplainable. I turned my head slightly, listening to the water lap against the rocks, the sound putting me in a kind of content trance. Vaguely, I remembered that I needed to move, lest Sirrus and Achenar link on top of me, or worse_, through _me, though I did not know if that was possible.

I opened my eyes as I moved, taking in all I could as I did so. I couldn't see the sun from where I was standing, but I could see the light illuminated the dark, thunderous sky behind me. A flicker of lightning, a rumble of thunder, but mostly contained to that one spot.

Said thunder nearly drowned out the roar of the link, and I turned to find Sirrus looking around in awe, calculating gaze taking in everything.

I smiled at him, saying, "Well, what do you think?"

Sirrus grinned, sweeping his arms in an elaborate gesture of approval and praise, but I caught something else in his eyes. _But what do _you_ think, Ceclila_? they seemed to ask. Perhaps it was just my imagination. But I couldn't tear my eyes away, unable to break the gaze, the unanswered question. What _did_ I think? _Was_ I happy with it?

A startled yelp and a muttered "oomph!" brought my attention back to Sirrus, and I just had to laugh. Achenar had linked in on top of him, sitting directly in the middle of his back, effectively crushing the air out of Sirrus' lungs. I, too, was gasping for breath, but only because I was laughing so hard.

I stopped suddenly, reflecting on this moment. I realized that I couldn't remember the last time I had laughed, truly laughed. The last year had been the hardest of my life. But this. . . perhaps this is the moment it all starts to change for the better.

I helped Sirrus up and Achenar hastily stood up. Smiling at the two of them and feeling the giggles building up again, I said,

"Alright. Let's go see what this Age is all about."

**A/N: No, I'm not going to post the Amateria explorations. That seems too. . .personal, I dunno. Anyway, we have some D'ni translations for yoooouuuu XD**

**You have heart**

**D'ni, the Great Empire**

**Still lives**

**Protecting the Ages**

**To bring us peace.**

"**Torn f'shehm, Atrus!" I spit on you, Atrus!**


	11. Shattered Silence

**A/N: OMG CHAPTER 10! I'm so very excited, for this marks the about 1/3 point in my story! That's right, I'm estimating "Devokan Tsahno" at 30 chapters. Trust me, we've got a looooonnnng way to go. And I apologize for scribbles out "****the cage"**** the bipolarness of the previous chapter and I would like to take time to say that this chapter is just as bad. Thank you, have a nice day.**

Devokan Tsahno

Chapter 10

Shattered Silence

_It has been five months since our trip to Amateria. I'm still in awe at the beauty the Age holds. It was even more beautiful than I had pictured in my mind. The crystal cliffs, the green pools, the buildings. . . I couldn't imagine a more wonderful place._

I quiet knock interrupted my writing. I looked up to see Atrus hovering in the doorway, looking slightly nervous to be standing there.

"Cecilia," he said softly, "Can we talk?"

I fixed my gaze to his.

"No, I don't think this is a good time," I said stiffly. A hurt expression crossed his face. He nodded mutely and left. After a moment, I returned to my journal.

_It has been almost a year since I finished the Age. . . since Atrus' rejection, though it seems foolish to think of it as such, but that is what it felt like. I do want to talk to him, really, but I just can't dispel my own anger and hurt, and until I do, I can't talk to him. Oh, all I want to do is run to him and cry into his shoulder like I did when I was younger, but that was a long time ago. We were _family_ then. . . I wish we still could be. But he has changed and I have changed._

I paused, then, _I miss him._

I read over the last line again, murmuring it out loud to myself, finding that the more I said it, the more true it became. I _did_ miss Atrus, the old Atrus. Atrus, who would joke about his poor cooking skills and make stone-and-branch "forts" with Achenar and read to Sirrus at night. Atrus, who was determined to be the best man he possibly could and to spend time with _everyone_ he knew, setting aside time even through his busiest of projects. Yes, this was the Atrus I knew, and the Atrus I missed more than anything in the world.

Without warning, I burst into furious sobs, tears staining the journal pages and smudging the ink. I cried for everything we had lost, everything we had lost in ourselves, from Sirrus' words to Atrus' humor to Catherine's bright optimism. We had lost ourselves and we had lost each other.

My crying quieted and I hastily wiped the tears from my face, one phrase running through my mind.

"There's still time," I murmured aloud, "There's still time to fix this."

* * *

I soon found myself outside, the cool night air ruffling the trees. It was soothing, and the near-quiet made it a good time to think. Yes, I wanted to fix all the damage that had been done since Anna's death, but I didn't know where to start, or with _whom_ to start. Do I start with Atrus, the one who we all depend on, or do I start with myself? Should I talk to Catherine first, or perhaps the boys? Could I ask for outside help, perhaps from Saavedro? 

I finally let go of my thoughts, content to merely sit on the edge of the Eye Pool, enjoying the night air. I closed my eyes, listening to the trees and the waves, when I heard a voice near me.

"It seems I am not the only one who finds the night soothing."

I cracked open one eye to see Atrus standing a few feet from me, still just as nervous by decidedly more pale than before.

"I came out here to think," I said crisply, refusing to look at him.

"Why are you like this?"

I had to look at him then, for the question and tone startled me.

"Like what?"

"Irate! It is in your tone, your posture, your actions. . ."

"I wasn't aware you were paying me much attention," I said, irritation growing.

"I'm always paying attention, Cecilia," Atrus said calmly.

"You have a funny way of showing it," I shot back, turning to face him while still sitting.

"And what, pray tell, is that supposed to mean?"

"You're ignoring us, Atrus," I said, anger rising, "You're so consumed in your own working pity party that you forget the rest of us exist half the time!"

"I am not _ignoring_ anyone! I am-"

"Busy. Yeah, I've heard that one before."

"I am!"

"Too busy for us, then?"

"Cecilia," Atrus said, seeming to fight to keep his tone level, "What are you getting at?"

"Amateria!" I exploded, leaping to my feet, "You were too 'busy' to even see my first Age! Explain that one to me, Atrus, because really, I'm anxious to hear it!"

"I couldn't, Cecilia, you know that!"

"Why, because Anna used to talk so much about it? Because the three of us used to sit together and review the words and phrases I would need to Write it? Because even the _mention_ of Amateria brought memories of her, even after two years? Well, perhaps it is good that she is gone, because if she weren't, she would be just as ashamed of you as I am!"

Dead silence met my ears, my own words echoing around. I watches Atrus' gaze darken, accusing and angry and altogether frightening, but I stood where I was. Briefly, I realized that this was the first time I had ever seen Atrus truly angry, and I was a going to be at the receiving end of whatever he was going to dish out.

"You," Atrus whispered furiously, "Haven't the slightest idea of what I have been going through."

"Just as you, have no idea of what _I'm_ going through. Listen, Atrus-"

"No, _you_ listen!" he said, his tone making me flinch, "Anna was the only one I had for the longest time. She raised me, took care of me, helped me through the hardest times of my life, even saved it. . ."

"She didn't save you to throw the rest of your family away when she left, Atrus."

"How would _you_ know, Cecilia?"

"Because I-"

"Stop it!" someone screamed. Atrus and I stopped suddenly, turned to see who had spoken. We found Sirrus standing there, alone, staring at us with sad, tired eyes.

"Stop it," he repeated, voice harsh and grating from disuse. I stood there, stunned, jaw slack.

"Sirrus. . ." Atrus whispered.

"No more fighting, no more hiding," Sirrus said, and at that moment I realized I had had it all wrong. It wasn't up to me to fix this family. It was up to all of us. We _all_ had to do something. I also realized something else: We couldn't do it on Myst. Too much had happened here. I would mention it to Atrus. . . later, perhaps, once at least some of this had blown over.

* * *

It was slow going from that point on. It started with simply sharing meals together again, though the conversation was awkward, and even the conversation part didn't happen for a few weeks. I knew it couldn't be easy, but the small, unrealistic part of me wanted it to be. It was as if we were all strangers again, for none of us had really been involved in each other's lives over the past two years. It hit Atrus and Catherine the hardest, I think, because it seemed as though they had missed two years of their sons' lives. 

There was a definite rift between Sirrus, Achenar, and I and Atrus and Catherine. I hadn't talked to either much, and it had quickly become apparent that Achenar hadn't, either, and Sirrus, of course, hadn't spoken at all. For instance, did they know that Sirrus taught himself to play the piano, or that Achenar baked enough bread to sell at the market just so that he could buy his own set of expensive oil paints? How many of these moments did they miss? Did they miss them, or did they know, but didn't say anything?

After one such awkward dinner (and after Sirrus and Achenar had gone to bed), I decided to attempt a real, honest-to-goodness conversation.

"So," I said in a light-hearted, joking tone, "What have you two been up to for the past two years?"

Atrus and Catherine looked up, startled. Then, slow smiles. Then a little laugh from Catherine. Then from Atrus. Then from _me_. Soon, all three of us were laughing at the absurdity of the question. I mean, really, we lived in the same house! But I did have to ask.

"Well," said Atrus, still chuckling, "I was having my own 'working pity party,' as you called it. I finished three Ages and quite nearly set fire to my library some months ago."

"Nice to meet you, Atrus!" I said, reaching over to shake his hand, "And how long has it been since you've had more than an hour of sun exposure?"

"I am not that pale!" he cried indignantly.

"Yes you are," said Catherine and I simultaneously. We looked at each other, then started laughing again. Atrus could only hold the annoyed expression so long before joining in.

"And you, Catherine? What have you been doing?"

"I've been mostly. . . well, nothing of importance. Housekeeping and whatnot. Visiting friends."

"Aww, come on! There has to be something exciting! New Ages, maybe?"

Catherine's smile dropped slightly.

"No. . . no new Ages."

I sensed that this was a touchy subject, so I let it drop.

"And what about you, Cecilia?" asked Atrus, "What have you been doing?"

"Honestly? Keeping Sirrus and Achenar entertained. Visiting places, shopping. . ." I trailed off, seeing the expressions on their faces.

_There_, I thought, _finally got to them_.

"We came so close to loosing them, didn't we?" Catherine said quietly after a while.

"Yes. . . you did," I said, not making eye contact. I stood and hastily excused myself, deciding that this was a conversation left for another time.

"Cecilia, wait," said Atrus.

I paused, one hand on the doorframe.

"Come with me to my study," he said, "I have something I need to show you."

I followed him through the twisting hallway and into the study. Atrus quickly lit a few Firemarbles, illuminating a podium where an open linking book was sitting, the panel glowing a smooth dark blue. Fascinated, I walked over to examine it. It seemed to lead to a crater-like lake surrounded by buildings and trees. At the picture rotated, I counted nine structures linked by bridges, with a tenth seemingly just out of the shot, way up above a waterfall that drained the lake.

"What is this place?" I said, flipping through the pages to read the delicate D'ni writing.

"I call it Tomahna."

I glanced at him, saying, "Tomahna? Doesn't that mean. . .?"

"Home. Yes, it does."

He began to pace, stopping sometimes to fiddle with things on his desk. Finally, he spoke again.

"Cecilia. . . so many good things have happened here on Myst. Catherine and I were married here. My sons were born here. You arrived here. But so much pain has happened here as well, and such rifts have been caused. I had been thinking of it over the past two years. . . what this island is, what has happened, why it even exists. . . and I realized that Tomahna needed to be written."

I laid my hand on Atrus' shoulder.

"Chehv shehm, Atrus," I said, reverting to D'ni, "Mehseht meht."

He smiled.

"Tahgahm."

**A/N: D'ni translations!**

"_**Chehv shehm, Atrus," **_**Thank you, Atrus**

"_**Mehseht meht." **_**We need this**

"_**Tahgahm." **_**I know**


	12. Pen Stroke Changes

**A/N: Aha. . . chapter 11, probably the most canon-destroying chapter so far.**

**Here's another age-recap thing. I want to post these every few chapters, 'cause there are major confusing timeskips throughout the story.**

**Atrus: 34**

**Catherine: 34**

**Sirrus: 10**

**Achenar: 13**

**Cecilia: 22**

**Saavedro: 23**

Devokan Tsahno

Chapter 11

Pen Stroke Changes

_Dear Saavedro,_

_Well, it's our last day here on Myst. Most of the Books have already been packed up and moved to the library on Chroma'agana, which we've planned to expand. All the furniture, too, has been moved. Let me tell you, it's no easy task to move furniture by linking book. The ledge that served as a linking point is only as wide as the largest table in your house which, as you know, isn't very big. We quite nearly lost Atrus and Catherine's bed! Thank goodness it's only temporary. Atrus plans to set up a new one far, far away from the lake and construct a tram to and from it. How he plans to do it is beyond me but, as I have learned, Atrus usually finds a way._

"Cecilia!" Called Catherine, "Are you nearly finished?"

"Almost!"

_We still have a few more personal belongings to pack and move (and the kitchen things, for some reason those haven't been packed, either). I hope you and Tamra will come and visit us once we're settled in. I would warn you to pack light clothing, though. It's much hotter here than it is on Narayan._

_I'm off to finish packing. Catherine's been calling me every five minutes for the past half an hour._

_Oh no. . . Atrus just broke a plate. . . I need to intervene before she gets to him. . . say hello to everyone for me!_

_Cecilia_

I sealed the letter in it's envelope, taking it with me as I wandered into the kitchen to see what damage Atrus had caused. I found Catherine alone, sweeping up shards of what had once been a pretty blue plate.

"Need help?"

Catherine sighed, saying, "No thank you, Cecilia, I can handle it."

The corners of my mouth twitched in a suppressed smile.

"And for future reference, Atrus isn't allowed to pack anything but Books, right?"

Catherine laughed.

"That is correct. This is the fifth one he's broken in an attempt to 'help'."

"Where'd he go?"

"He just left with Sirrus to Chroma'agana to drop off a few more boxes of Books. He should be back shortly."

"Great. I'm going to go take this," I said, holding up the letter, "To Narayan. I'll be back in a few minutes to help, alright?"

"That's kind of you, but I think I'm alright here. Achenar should be along in a minute to help me finish, then we'll take these boxes to Tomahna. So, it's fine if you take your time there."

I laughed.

"If you insist."

* * *

"I'm back!" I half-sang, half-called as I linked back into the library about a half an hour later. To my surprise, I found it empty but for two boxes, one of which was mine. I glanced over at the glowing Tomahna Book on the shelf, wondering if everyone else had linked ahead of me. Indeed, the passage to the elevator was shut, implying that no one was down there.

I poked my head out the door, seeing if anyone was outside. Finding no one, I began to wander. The island appeared deserted. No noise was heard but the birds and the wind. Then I remember what Catherine had told me, that Atrus was supposed to be back. But as I couldn't see him at Anna's gravestone, I had a pretty good idea of where he was.

Sure enough, as I rounded the corner near the observatory, I saw him standing up where the giant gears were, staring out over the ocean. I stood there a while, not wanting to disturb his peace, instead taking the time to study him.

I had once found it odd that, for a man in his mid-thirties, Atrus didn't look a day over twenty-five. I had mentioned this to him a few years past, receiving a chuckle and an explanation of D'ni genes and life span.

"Though I am only one-fourth D'ni," he had said, "I suppose I can look forward to a relatively long lifespan, say, about 250 years."

As I thought it over, I realized that I would end up dying long before Atrus ever would. . . before anyone else, even. The thought thoroughly depressed me, and I had pushed it out of my mind. But now that I stood here looking at him closely again, the idea was brought forward, and yet it didn't hurt so much this time.

Walking up the stairs to where he was standing, it struck me that, in a few years, I'd look older than him. The thought made me laugh out loud, drawing his attention.

"And what is so funny, my friend?" he asked as I came to stand beside him.

"Oh, nothing. Just thinking about the fact that I'll have grey hair long before you do."

"Hmm. . ." he murmured, mind drifting elsewhere.

"Atrus?" I asked, concerned.

A sigh from him, then, almost to himself, "It seems odd that I would be leaving this place. I honestly thought that our happy life here would last forever. . . but now I see how fragile it really was. With one death came so much pain and almost irreparable damage. To think I came so close to losing everything I cared about. . . it is a frightening concept. But now we can begin anew, away from all this. . ."

"Away from all the pain?"

A saddened look crossed Atrus' face.

"No. . . not all the pain. Not all the horrible memories will leave when we do."

"Wha? What do you mean?"

He turned, placing a hand on my shoulder.

"Cecilia. . . I am not yet ready to tell you that story. That chapter of my life still casts a long shadow, one that is not thrown off so easily. But I _will_ tell you, someday."

He turned and walked down the stairs, leaving me to trail after him, thoroughly confused and trying to figure out this new piece to the puzzle that is Atrus. There was a name, though. Something that someone had mentioned to me a long time ago. I think. . . perhaps an Age? I remember that it seemed. . . foreboding, an almost taboo word. Whatever it was, I was sure it would come to me eventually.

* * *

I stood on the balcony, leaning against the railing, feeling the warm evening Tomahna wind and listening to the soothing sound of the nearby waterfall. After a long day setting things up, it was a relief to be able to relax.

It was interesting to see the way Atrus Wrote in the buildings. My bedroom was on the "third level,". It was built almost directly over the waterfall, the edge of the building touching the edge of the cliff. An immobile staircase connected to the two-story building that was Achenar's and Sirrus' rooms. Sirrus' was on the second level (where most of the other buildings were set), while Achenar's on the first (and the only building on that level). The two rooms were connected by a spiral staircase that extended from the balcony. From there, a moving walkway-slash-staircase connected the balcony of Sirrus' room to the kitchen, then rotated to connect the kitchen to the rest of the house. I briefly wondered why that was, but I figured that it was just Atrus experimenting.

Beyond the bridge was Atrus and Catherine's bedroom, Catherine's study, a few greenhouses, Atrus' study, and the waterwheel, which provided electrical energy for the entire house. On the whole, it was a very elaborate, yet efficient, setup.

I glanced up towards Atrus' workroom, which was set high above the rest of the buildings in a sort of natural stone arch. A large window looked out over the lake and through it I could see the flickering light from a firemarble or three. From our talk earlier, I had somewhat suspected that he wouldn't be getting a lot of sleep tonight.

As I laid in bed that night, mind wandering, I suddenly bolted upright, remembering the name of the Age that I had been attempting to recall since this morning.

"Riven," I whispered into the dark, "The name was Riven. Achenar told me about it. He said that Atrus and Catherine were talking about it. . . and someone. And he also said that Myst Island was written to be safe. . ."

I gazed out the window, eyes drawn to the still-flickering light of Atrus' sleeplessness.

"Atrus. . . what are you running from?"

**A/N: I haven't a clue why writing this chapter was so hard! I guess it was because it was a transition chapter, which is my worst nightmare. Ever. Transition chapters, transition paragraphs, transition _sentences_. . . gah.**


	13. Of D'ni and Blackouts

**A/N: This chapter was a pain. Severe Writer's Block of DOOOOOOM randomly hit about halfway through writing. So, things are not as. . . connected as I'd like them to be.**

**On another note, for those of you stalking this story. . . I do have a sequel in progress. Well, if "brainstorming plot" can be called progress. But just so you know :D**

Devokan Tsahno

Chapter 12

Of D'ni and Blackouts

When I was in high school, the mothers of my group of friends would meet once a week to gossip over coffee (or tea) and lunch. Likewise, my group of friends and I decided that, when we grew up, we would never find ourselves in such a situation. So, naturally, I had to laugh when I found myself talking with Catherine and Tamra over tea and sandwiches on a warm Tomahna afternoon. The situation was made even more hilarious when I learned that neither of them had ever had sandwiches before.

"How are Sirrus and Achenar doing, Catherine?" asked Tamra, eyeing her sandwich with interest.

"Oh, they are doing well," she said, "If you were only here to see their faces when Atrus handed them each a copy of the Rehvkor! They have both been pouring over it obsessively since, hardly stopping to eat or sleep!"

"Sounds like Atrus when he's experimenting," I commented.

"Is there ever a time when he isn't?" Catherine added, getting a laugh out of the three of us. No, there never was a time when Atrus wasn't doing something. It seemed to be one oddball project after another.

"Speaking of Atrus. . . Cecilia, would you mind taking these leftover. . . sandwiches?. . . up to Atrus and Saavedro? They've been up there all morning without pause."

"Doing what, exactly?"

Catherine thought a moment, then, "I don't really know. I believe that Atrus is trying to calibrate the crystal viewer he brought from Rime, but he could have moved on by now. You know how distracted he gets sometimes."

"Indeed. I'll be back in a while, though chances are Atrus will rope me into helping him do. . . whatever he's doing."

* * *

"Turn the leftmost dial. . . no, no, that's to far. . . perfect."

"Are we finished?"

"No. . . adjust the phase dial - it's the one on the right."

"I. Just. Did."

Thus was the conversation that met my ears when I stepped off the elevator into Atrus' workroom. The man in question was studying a monitor attached to a strange machine, while Saavedro was glaring at his back, hand poised over a small control panel. I hung back when I realized that no one had noticed my arrival, wanting to know how this played out.

"The phase seems pretty well adjusted. Try adjusting the center dial."

A frustrated growl from Saavedro was nearly drowned out by Atrus' cry of success.

"Thank you, my friend," he said, "Narayan's signal is fully functional. Now, we just need to program Myst."

A vein jumped in Saavedro's forehead. With a grumble, he brushed past me into the elevator and quickly departed. I blinked, still unsure of what had happened, or why Saavedro was so frustrated.

"Ermm. . . I brought lunch?" I half-questioned, half-stated, holding up the plate.

Atrus sighed, saying, "Thank you, Cecilia. Set it on my desk there, please."

I nodded questioningly to the machine as I set the sandwiches down.

"What's all this?"

"Ah. . . I was trying to calibrate the crystal viewer to see my various Ages, to. . . keep an eye on them, I suppose you would say. Saavedro was just helping me, but. . . I can't understand why he was so frustrated. . ."

I glanced over at the controls. They didn't look to hard.

"Perhaps I could be of assistance?"

Atrus smiled. A little voice in the back of my head told me to be very, very afraid.

* * *

"Adjust the leftmost dial."

I should have listened to the little voice.

I'm sure if Atrus could see me, he'd be worried about the murderous glare I was sending to the back of his head. Honestly, how many times do I have to-

"Try moving the slider."

-move the slider. Again.

"No, my mistake, that setting was correct."

No wonder Saavedro was frustrated. I kept my comments to myself, however. It wouldn't help anything if I, say, threw that ink well at him. Besides, it might shatter and then his clothes would be ruined and it would be on _my_ head, though Catherine might sympathize. Still, it might be worth it. . .

"Adjust the frequency."

Gritting my teeth, I slowly turned the dial, listening to Atrus' instructions of "A little more to the right," and "Left, my friend," until I was eyeing that ink bottle longingly, hands twitching. Looking back towards the monitor, I realized that, if I ignored him and just adjusted the phase a little to the left and the amplitude a little to the right, I'd have it.

I watched with grim satisfaction as the wavelengths lined up perfectly and the machine powered down, allowing the crystals in the viewer to activate.

"Thank you, Cecilia. Now I can finally-"

Suddenly, the panel on the crystal viewer exploded outward, sending shards of glass and metal flying across the room. I ducked, covering my face. Then, a cry of pain.

"Atrus, what-"

Another fizzled explosion, this time from the overhead wires. The electricity abruptly shut off, leaving the light from the window to illuminate the damage.

I lifted my head up slightly, relieved to see that a fire hadn't started. The relief was quickly replaced by panic as I saw Atrus sitting against the remains of the viewer, a trickle of blood running down his face.

"Atrus! I shouted, sliding to sit next to him, "Atrus!"

A cough, then a weak laugh.

"Aha. . . well, that didn't go quite as I had planned."

"You're injured," I stated, looking around for something to clean off the blood with.

"It isn't a life-threatening cut, my friend. I can stand. Just. . . help me up."

I stood and held out a hand. When he reached up to take it, I realized that his hands, too, were riddled with small cuts. I sighed, shaking my head.

"Oh Atrus. . . what are we going to do with you?"

"Nothing, I would expect," he said, letting me help him up, "Now, what are we going to do with _you_ if you keep overreacting to everything that happens to me?"

"Nothing, I would expect," I repeated in my best Atrus impersonation. He laughed, reaching for a rag to wipe off his cut hands and face. I caught his arm and spun him around in the direction of the elevator.

"No, Atrus. Those need to be cleaned. I'm sure Catherine will be eager to know why there was an explosion, in any case. Besides, you have to get the power working when you're done."

"Now now, Cecilia," he protested, "Why does Catherine need to know? I'm sure I can clean up on my own."

I ignored him and pushed him into the elevator, attempting to squeeze in next to him.

"Gods, Atrus, why did you have to Write the elevator so small?" I asked, finally switching the door shut and getting us moving.

"Well-"

"Never mind, never mind. It probably has a long-winded scientific explanation that I won't particularly understand."

So we remained silent for a time. I laughed when I saw Catherine standing next to the elevator entrance. Atrus just groaned.

As the elevator ground to a halt, I stretched my arm to reach the switch. Finally flicking it with the tip of my finger, Atrus and I spilled out into the bright Tomahna afternoon, ready to confront a very worried (and slightly angry looking) Catherine.

Her eyes widened when she saw Atrus' cut forehead and hands.

"Atrus, what did you _do_? We heard the explosion all the way down here! Saavedro said that nothing was wrong when he left. All you were doing was tuning the crystal viewer!"

She gave an exasperated sigh, then, "Come on, we'll get you cleaned up. You as well, Cecilia."

"What?" I blinked stupidly.

"You," Catherine pointed to me, "Go to the kitchen," She pointed to the kitchen, "And clean out that cut on your cheek," Pointed back to me.

I reached up and touched my cheek, wincing at the stinging pain the pressure brought. I sighed, then made my way across the bridge. I knew that Catherine was going to attack me with those healing herbs of hers. I didn't care how bad of a cut I had, I didn't like those herbs. I was convinced that they were grown with hydrogen peroxide and napalm. I snickered under my breath. I just had _one_ cut. Atrus had several.

* * *

"Make your lines carefully. . . that's it. One stem, two base. Very good."

It was another early evening lesson. I watched Atrus and the boys out of the corner of my eye, seeing the enthusiasm they brought.

I watched as Achenar slowly and carefully drew the D'ni letter on the page, concentrating heavily. Sirrus, too, made the letter, but quickly, yet just as precise. I saw Achenar glance at his brother briefly, in. . . jealousy? The look was gone just as quickly as it had come. I frowned. Had I imagined it?

I had noticed that Sirrus was picking up the language much faster than Achenar. It was frustrating the three of them. Atrus was exasperated at the difference in skill between the two boys, yet he didn't let it show. Sirrus was irritated at the slow pace. Achenar. . . judging by that glance (which I'm sure now I didn't imagine), he was resentful at how easy it was for his brother.

"Cecilia?" Catherine asked, bringing me back to my task. I shook my head to clear my thoughts and went back to washing the dishes.

"Cecila. . . something is troubling you."

I sighed and handed her a plate for her to dry.

"It's nothing, Catherine. Truly, it is nothing."

Involuntarily, my eyes darted back to where the other three were working. Catherine followed my gaze in dawning comprehension.

"Ah, you're worried about-"

"I'm not worried," I said, cutting her off. "Just. . . concerned."

She made a gesture for me to continue.

"Well, Sirrus and Achenar are so far apart in skill level. . . I mean, Atrus decided just now to teach them. . . well, review for Achenar, as he had started just before Anna's death. I tried to keep him updated, but it's so _hard _to teach something you barely understand yourself."

I paused, then, "I find myself wanting to help them more and more as they grow older. They're like. . . like family. Like my _brothers_. But I can't protect them forever. And yet, I feel that this will divide not just them from Atrus, but from each other. . . I don't want that to happen."

Catherine put a comforting hand on my shoulder.

"Cecilia. . . look there now."

I glanced over back to the three. Sirrus was pointing out what looked like a difficult letter, penning it slowly on a piece of paper in front of Achenar, who nodded and smiled, starting to pen it himself.

"You see, Cecilia?" Catherine said with a smile, "You don't need to worry. You are very overprotective of them. . . of all of us, really. The feeling won't go away. . . for family, it never really does. But you have to have a little faith in us. You can't take on all the world's problems yourself."

I smiled.

"Right. I'll remember that."

Then it hit me.

Family. She said _family_.

I'm _family_.


	14. The Beginning of the Journey

**A/N: Another pain chapter. I'm sorry if it's boring, really. It was one of those chapters that just needed to **_**be**_**, whether or not it was actually entertaining.**

Devokan Tsahno

Chapter 13

The Beginning of the Journey

"Atrus, are you sure it's not going to explode this time?"

He chuckled.

"I am sure, Cecilia. I placed extra circuit breakers and such to prevent the wires from overheating."

"Oh good," I said, readjusting the dials, "I don't want a repeat of what happened last year."

"Now really!" exclaimed Atrus in slight indignation, "It wasn't really all that bad."

"No, Atrus," I said sarcastically, "It was perfectly fine when the last viewer exploded. It only injured both you and me and shut down the power for three days."

"Which I _fixed_," he said pointedly.

"Only after Catherine insisted on that power-box thing of yours that you installed in her study."

Atrus mumbled under his breath, turning back to his monitor. I laughed, finishing the final adjustments.

"How's that?"

"Perfect," he said, "Now as soon as I find the correct crystal combination, we should be able to view Amateria quite clearly."

"That's good, because you _still_ haven't seen it yet."

"And now I will."

"And one day, Atrus, I will drag you there and make you see it in person."

"Perhaps, perhaps," he laughed.

I do not know when I decided that I wasn't going to hate Atrus for not coming with me to Amateria. Somehow, though, over the course of a few years, it had become somewhat of a running joke between the two of us. He insists that he will never go to Amateria, and I insist on dragging him there. Once I enlisted the help of Sirrus and Achenar in an attempt to physically drag him over to the Linking Book, much to Catherine's amusement. This I will say of Atrus: He's no pushover. That man, for all the time he spends sitting up here working, is incredibly strong. Once he braced himself in a doorframe, we couldn't get him to move. It never really occurred to us that it would be easier to bring the Linking Book to Atrus instead of the other way around.

"Cecilia? It's getting late," called Atrus from the upper platform of his workshop.

"No it's not," I said, "Really. It's only ten o'clock."

He gave me a Look.

"Atrus, I'm twenty-three years old. Honestly, I'm perfectly capable of sending myself to bed."

"If you insist, Cecilia," he said, "I just assumed you'd want to be well-rested for our trip to a new Age of mine tomorrow. . ."

My eyes widened.

"New Age?" I asked excitedly.

"Yes, a new Age. I wrote it a few years back, but I never visited it. There's something I want to try. . . an experiment in how one learns the Art. I want you and Catherine both to see the Age and what I have planned before I decide anything."

"Sure, sure. Now. . . I'm off to bed. I need rest for tomorrow, after all!"

"Pack some things ahead of time, Cecilia!" he called after me as I headed for the elevator, "It's quite warm there, so you'll need-"

"Hat, light shirts, durable pants, my good pair of hiking boots, some rope, goggles, and my journal. Got it."

"Why do I bother?" mumbled Atrus as I shut the door to the elevator.

* * *

"Good morning, Catherine!" I called cheerily from the balcony of the kitchen. She looked at me, surprised that I was awake before her, then laughed.

"Oh Cecilia, you just couldn't wait, could you?"

"Me? Wait? Nay, for we're off on an adventure today!"

"And you've made breakfast, too? How lovely."

I nodded, helping her set the table.

"Well, I hope you two have fun."

I glanced up, confused.

"You're not coming?"

"I traveled last week."

"Ah. . . so, what's the Age like?"

But Catherine just smiled, saying, "Oh, you'll see. Well, since breakfast is finished earlier than usual, I suppose I should wake Atrus."

"Should I get the boys?" I asked, gesturing towards their rooms.

"No, no," said Catherine, "Let them sleep. I'll cook them something later."

Just then, Atrus stumbled into the room, yawning. He sat down heavily in one of the window seats, closing his eyes. I giggled. I did not get to see Early Morning Atrus very often. His clothes were wrinkled, his hair was wild and frizzy, and he seemed to have forgotten his glasses. From what I could gather, he fell asleep in the clothes he had worn yesterday.

"Good morning, Atrus," I said, trying to repress the oncoming giggle fit. He cracked open one eye, regarding me with some measure of confusion.

". . . you're awake," he mumbled.

"Yup!" I said, a big grin plastered on my face. His confusion changed to mild amusement.

"Who are you?" he asked, "You are not Cecilia, for I know that Cecilia is not a morning person by any means."

"It's not that early!" I protested.

Atrus turned his head slightly to stare out the window.

"You do realize that the sun has not yet risen, do you not?"

"Your point?"

He chuckled.

"We're not leaving for another hour or so."

"Fine," I said, "You seem to be needing a new change of clothes, anyway."

He glanced down at his wrinkled shirt, sighing.

"Yes, I suppose I do."

Atrus reached up to take his glasses off. He abruptly realized that they weren't there when he accidentally jabbed himself in the eye with his finger. Unable to contain it any longer, I burst into a fit of laugher, stumbling away to help Catherine finish serving breakfast.

* * *

Atrus pulled the Linking Book from the shelf, laying it open on the desk. I peered curiously at the panel. It seemed to be an island of . . . dirt and rock. As the image turned, I could see five strange tusk-like spires reaching out of the ground. The top of the middle one was cut off and had a large building resting on it.

"Atrus?"

"Hmm?"

"Why is it that your Ages are always islands?"

"When you grow up in a desert, Cecilia," he said, throwing more items in his pack, "You have a strange fascination with water."

"Yeah, but I grew up in a desert, and I don't have. . . wait a minute."

Atrus laughed.

"Amateria is an island, is it not?"

I grumbled, adding a few more pens to my bag. Atrus always had this annoying habit of being right.

"Well," Atrus said, putting on his darkened goggles, "Are we ready to go?"

"Yes, yes," I said impatiently.

Atrus pressed one hand to the linking panel. As soon as he was gone, I, too, allowed myself to be pulled into the darkness.

* * *

I opened my eyes to the glaring sun glinting off the still sea. I squinted, attempting to make out details in the landscape. Ahead of me, I could see the observatory sitting atop the main tusk, it's reds and greens standing out against a background of browns.

Already I could feel the heat of the midday sun beating down against the back of my neck. Even though we lived in a desert, Tomahna wasn't nearly as hot as it was here. I thought this strange, as small islands are usually kept cool by the surrounding sea.

I followed Atrus down and around the rocks onto a sandy path. From there, we made our way to what appeared to be a stone staircase.

"Errm. . . Atrus? It that safe?" I asked, eyeing the steep stairs worriedly.

"Yes yes, it's fine," he said distractedly, starting the decent into what appeared to be a lagoon.

The temperature dropped dramatically as we made our way down towards the water. I gripped the handrail tightly. I knew that if I fell I would fall into the water, but the thought didn't make it any more appealing.

From the stairs, we picked our way across a bridge to what appeared to be a floating house. It was amazingly beautiful. It appeared to be made out of several shimmering layers of stained glass of a variety of bright colors.

"Nice contrast," I commented as we made our way inside. The foyer of the house looked much like the outside, though it was filled with potted plants of all kinds. The light shone through the glass and reflected off the small pool of water sitting in the middle of some of the larger ones, reflecting again all around the room.

Atrus chuckled, tapping me on the shoulder to get my attention. I laughed when I realized I had been standing there, staring in open-mouthed amazement.

The rest of the house consisted of only one room. It mostly matched the browns of the outside. I sighed. I should have known it wouldn't last. I mean, it's Atrus. He sometimes wears banana yellow and brown, for pete's sake. No decorating skills whatsoever. . .

Atrus walked over and sat down heavily in one of the chairs, gesturing for me to sit beside him. After I was settled, he began.

"Cecilia. . . your education of the Art was rather. . . rushed. I do not know why. It still seems. . . incomplete. Yes, you made a stable Age, but it seems as if there should have been. . . more. A hands-on approach, as it were."

He paused a moment, then, "My own education was. . . broken. I was taught by my father, who knew nothing of the Art and what it truly meant."

I regarded him with interest. He had never spoken of family beyond his grandmother. The tone in his voice startled me.

"He thought he was a god, creating these worlds," Atrus said, somewhat spitefully, "He copied bits out of other Books, melding them together like some twisted science experiment gone wrong. His Ages were always so _unstable_, and he wrote dozens of them! He filled up bookshelf after bookshelf of time bombs. . ."

We sat in silence for a moment, allowing for Atrus' frustration to drain.

He then sighed, saying, "I am sorry, my friend. I did not mean to ramble so. It. . . it has been a long time since I have spoken of my father. Longer still since I have seen him. . . he is far away, on another Age."

I mulled over this a moment. Then, the pieces started to fall into place.

"Riven," I exclaimed, finding an acceptable answer.

Atrus looked at me, stunned.

"You know about _Riven_?"

"Not _about_ Riven, just _of_ Riven."

"Where did you hear it?"

"Achenar. He told me the name when I first arrived here."

He sighed, resting his chin on his folded hands.

". . . that's where your father is, isn't it, Atrus?" I said after a time.

"Yes," he murmured, "I all but imprisoned him there. It's been so long. . ."

"Do you think he's still alive?"

"If the Age hasn't collapsed first. . . he is half D'ni. . . he will live long."

"Riven is Gehn's Age?"

"His fifth, to be precise."

"Did you ever think of going back?"

"No. I can't give him a way out."

There was a flash of something in his eyes, a realization of something long forgotten, but he said nothing.

"So. . ." I said, steering away from the unpleasant conversation, "What was this idea you had?"

Atrus perked up, relieved that the topic was off his father.

"Well, I was planning on having several Ages that reflected the basic concepts of Age writing. 'Nature encourages mutual dependence,' 'Energy powers future motion,'-"

"'Dynamic forces spur change,'" I added, "And 'Balanced systems stimulate civilizations.'"

"Right," said Atrus, smiling, "And thus, I want to write Ages that can demonstrate such things. This Age, J'nanin, would be the center Age, linking to all the others."

I thought over all this a moment, then, "All right, but will there be some sort of challenge to all this? Perhaps there should be puzzles."

"Puzzles?" Atrus mused, "Yes. . .yes, puzzles to reflect the Age. . . that is good."

"Maybe Narayan for Civilizations? It does have that near perfect balance."

"At the end, maybe," said Atrus, getting up to pace, "After everything else is solved. You see the separate ideas, then they all come together into one."

"Do you have Ages in mind, besides J'nanin and Narayan?"

"Not quite yet. . . well, I suppose I do have an idea."

"Let's hear it, then."

Atrus hesitated, then, "For my sons. . . one each. For Achenar, a huge jungle in a tree by the sea. . . or on the sea, I have not decided. For Sirrus. . . a great canyon, and a ship that travels on hot air. But I do not know another Age for you."

"An Age for me?"

"We are all represented here, you know. J'nanin for me, Narayan for Catherine, the jungle for Achenar, the canyon for Sirrus. . ."

"Amateria," I said, "Use Amatera."

Atrus paused to look at me.

"Amatera? But. . . your first Age. . ."

"It would be put to good use," I said, "You helped me Write it, you know how it's structured. . . an how it could be edited."

I smiled slighly, saying, "It's the least I could do, after all that's happened."

Atrus pulled me into his embrace.

"Thank you, Cecilia. It means so much to us. . . to all of us."

I hugged him back, saying, "You're welcome. I'll. . . I'll always be here."

He smiled and ruffled my hair.

"I hope so."


	15. Sides of a Coin

-1**A/N: This chapter is the result of two weeks of no writing due to the most severe case of Writer's Block I've ever had. It scared me, seriously. I thought I was never going to write again. But here we are: The latest chapter!**

Devokan Tsahno

Chapter 14

Sides of a Coin

It appeared that Atrus' Lesson Age idea wasn't as far-fetched as it seemed. Sirrus and Achenar were enthusiastic, but were slightly disappointed when they learned that they would not be going together, instead going when they turned sixteen. It was a reasonable age, as Atrus said, for a young man to go off on his own. Achenar was particularly excited, considering he would be sixteen in seven month's time. Sirrus, having just turned twelve, sulked for a time until Catherine spoke with him, reminding him that the time would pass quickly.

It had turned out that Atrus did split up the boys' D'ni lessons, taking Achenar to learn how to Write while Catherine continued working with Sirrus on the basics of the language. All of us were stunned at their progress; Atrus hypothesized that Achenar would be finished with his first Age in four years, with Sirrus writing his in less than seven. In truth, I was somewhat jealous of the ease in which they learned.

I removed my pen from the inkwell and scratched a few more lines into my practice book. Atrus has asked Catherine to help Write the Lesson Ages, but when she refused, he passed the task off to me. It was a simple enough request: Write an Age that demonstrates "Nature Encourages Mutual Dependence." I had a picture in my mind of a great tree in the middle of the ocean that housed an entire jungle ecosystem. A simple request, but a complex Age. When I mentioned this to Atrus, he just smiled and told me that he was confident in my ability to pull it off.

This is what I liked to call "Atrus Pressure." Atrus Pressure is when he asks you to do something in such a way that you will put all your time, energy, blood, sweat, tears, and sanity into the task so as not to incite any disappointment from him. And you can't say no. Not ever.

I stared at the phrase I just wrote describing a certain type of insect that lived in the swamp at the base of the tree. It was minute and, to most, unimportant, but it was actually crucial to the entire balance of the Age. I laughed weakly. Of course Atrus used Atrus Pressure to get me to write the most delicate of the Ages.

"Father driving you crazy again?"

I turned around in my chair to see Achenar leaning against the doorway, smirking. I smiled slightly, adjusting my glasses.

"Of course he is. Doesn't he always?"

He laughed and pulled up a chair closer to my desk.

"Well, that's how Father is, I suppose. The thing is, though, he doesn't know he's doing it."

I laughed, saying, "He's innocently terrorizing us all."

"Exactly."

I penned in a few more lines, adding a few more details to the insects. Achenar attempted to lean in and view my Writing, but I lightly tapped him on the forehead with the edge of my pen.

"No, you have to wait and see."

"You're no fun," he laughed, leaning back in his chair. I took this moment to study him out of the corner of my eye. He changed a lot in the eight years I've known him. . . grew up faster than I could keep track of. His hair was a shoulder length mass of curls that he more often than not just left there, much to Catherine's frustration. He regarded my work with dark, caring eyes that held just enough mischievousness to make you wonder exactly what he was planning. Achenar's white shirt was stained with various multicolor blotches, a combination of his painting and the ink from his writing. Everything about him from his expression to his sandaled feet complimented his carefree attitude, his preference for taking life as it came. Not that he was a slacker, but he just didn't fret about what he couldn't change or what tomorrow would bring.

"So, what have you done so far today, Achenar?" I asked, attempting some form of conversation while describing the various plants that made up the swamp at the base of the tree.

"Not much," he admitted, "Started sketching my newest painting on my canvas, helped Mother with a bit of cleaning, practiced more D'ni . . . it's been a rather dull day, truth be told. Sirrus locked himself in his room again, and Father went to Rime. . . no one left to bother but you."

"I feel honored," I said dryly. Achenar just grinned.

"So what's Sirrus' issue this time?" I asked. It had become a regular occurrence now: Sirrus had been spending less and less time with everyone else, only leaving his room for lessons and meals. We had tried to drag him out for sun and fresh air and whatnot, but he refused our offers.

"I haven't a clue, honestly," Achenar said, the smile replaced with worry, "I heard some pretty violent music floating out of there, though . . . Cecilia, do you think you could talk to him? He won't talk to me."

That had me worried now. Usually, it was Achenar Sirrus went to if he had problems. For him to avoid his brother was simply unheard of.

"Alright, I'll have a few words with him," I said, cleaning my pen and putting my practice book away, "Don't expect much, though - he sounds like he's in a particularly foul mood."

I followed Achenar out onto my balcony, shielding my eyes against the harsh June sun. The warm breeze carried the dark music from Sirrus' room over to where we were standing. We made our way down to the rooms, wincing as a wrong note and a few harsh curses that polite young men shouldn't say erupted from the closed door. Achenar looked at me sympathetically, mouthed "Good luck," and made his way towards the kitchen. When he was out of earshot, I tapped on Sirrus' door.

"Sirrus?"

"What?"

I winced at the angry tone.

"Sirrus, it's Cecilia. May I come in?"

A few muttered words, footsteps, and then the sound of the door unlocking. I opened the door, fully expecting some sort of angry tirade, but all I saw was Sirrus sitting at his piano, pen flying across the page of music. I glanced around, taking in every inch of his meticulously clean room. I was always unnerved when I stepped in here. I thought about my own brother at about Sirrus' age and remembered how messy his room had been. To see this room so obsessively organized was slightly. . . creepy. You would never have guessed that a twelve-year-old boy lived here.

I sat in the only other available chair, observing the young man at the piano. His posture radiated tension, dark eyes angry, cold, and calculating, never missing a detail. His clothes were meticulously neat, with dark pants and pressed white shirt that had no stains nor wrinkles. His black shoes, too, were shined to absolute perfection. Sirrus' short cropped, dark brown hair didn't have a single strand out of place. The whole effect produced the image of a much older person. He looked fourteen rather than twelve, which was why sometimes he was mistaken as the elder brother on most of the Ages we visited. His articulate speech and impeccable manners added to the illusion that he himself created. Yet this was not an act for Sirrus; it was the way he was, and that is what worried the rest of us.

"Did you need something, Cecilia?" asked Sirrus, interrupting my thoughts.

"No, not really. I just wanted to see how you were doing . . . Achenar said you were upset."

He was silent for a time, still facing the page of music he had been writing on.

Then, "What makes you think that I am upset?"

I smiled slightly, gesturing to the piano.

"Angry music? Locked door?"

"I wished for privacy, nothing more."

I rose and walked over to him, placing a hand on his shoulder and feeling his already tense muscles stiffen. I frowned

"Sirrus. . . what is wrong? Is this about the Lesson Ages?"

"Why would this be about the Lesson Ages?" he said through gritted teeth, attempting to continue his work.

"Because ever since Atrus said that you wouldn't be going to the Lesson Ages until you're sixteen, you've been secluding yourself more and more, refusing to speak with anyone."

"I'm speaking with you now, am I not?"

"That's not what I meant, Sirrus, and you know it."

"Perhaps I do not want to speak with anyone."

"Not even Achenar?"

Silence. I could see something unidentifiable flicker in his gaze. I sighed at sat on the bench beside him.

"Y'know Sirr," I said, "You can't be angry at Achenar for all this."

More silence.

"It's not his fault. There isn't even a 'fault' to speak of. Atrus is just looking out for both of you, that's all."

"So you side with him?" Sirrus whispered, still refusing to look at me. I gave a frustrated sigh.

"Sirrus, there are no 'sides.' Atrus is just being a concerned father, that's all."

"So he refuses to teach me as well as him?"

"Sirrus, the Art is a delicate subject best suited for one-on-one teaching. Atrus just wants to make sure he's thorough in his explanations. If you do not completely understand _everything_, your Ages will not be stable and they'll collapse."

No response. I sighed.

"Sirrus, it's part of being younger. Achenar will always have things he'll be able to do first. That's just the way it is."

"I wish I wasn't younger."

"Yeah, well, I wish I was taller and that my hair wasn't so obscenely yellow."

Sirrus looked at me then.

"I like your hair," he said.

I smiled.

"I'll trade you."

"No thank you. You can keep it."

I laughed, saying, "One of these days I will find someone who will buy my hair. Honestly, it's thick and long and distracting. . ."

"Oh, just have Mother cut it off."

"Yes, but won't Achenar have a fit?"

Sirrus smiled.

"Just because you sometimes sit for him doesn't mean he controls your life, you know."

"Maybe Achenar will buy it, then."

The corners of his mouth quirked and a badly repressed giggle made it's way out into the air.

"Can you picture it, Sirrus? Achenar with long flowing yellow hair. . ."

Sirrus laughed outright then, hard enough to make tears well up in his eyes and to find the need to lean on the piano for support. I grinned. It had been a long time since Sirrus had laughed. It was an amazing sound.

**A/N: Yes, an entire chapter that focuses on nothing but character development and descriptions. Wh00t! Really though, it was needed. I mean, we haven't seen much of the boys as of late and I felt like I was neglecting them.**


	16. Let Go

**A/N: Yes, after over a month's delay, I bring you the next chapter of Devokan Tsahno! The reason for this? The most extreme case of Writer's Block I have ever experienced EVER. But I have pulled through, just for you people - Enjoy!**

Devokan Tsahno

Chapter 15

Let Go

"Tomahna, Edanna, Amateria, Voltaic, Narayan . . . J'nanin. . ."

"Comensanin, expidan revilani erte yan."

"Indeed."

I had spent the last few days on Narayan, making sure everything was ready. The shields were set, the codes programmed. . . everything was fine. . .

I sighed. This was going to be so hard. . .

"Everything is ready, Cecilia," said Saavedro, interrupting my thoughts.

"Tomahna Book?"

"At home."

". . . Emergency Tomahna Book?"

"With me, and I pray I shall not have to use it."

"As do I."

I sighed, sitting down on the edge of the platform, allowing my legs to dangle over the edge.

"Everything will be fine," Saavedro said, sitting beside me.

"I know, but. . . I'm worried. What if something goes wrong? Those drops in Edanna and Voltaic. . ."

"Cecilia, this is Achenar we're talking about. He's sixteen, not six."

"I know, Saavedro. But if something happened to him - especially on Edanna or Amateria - I'd never forgive myself."

"If it happens on your Ages, Cecilia, it is not your fault. Besides, you know that I will check in on him every few days - without his knowledge, of course. There is nothing for you to worry about."

I smiled slightly.

"I guess so. You're right: This is Achenar. He is nothing if not resourceful."

I laughed, saying, "I guess I do worry too much. Catherine said it's going to be the death of me, that I'm going to make myself ill with all the fretting I do."

"Catherine seems much less worried than you."

". . . I think she's just as worried as I am. She just doesn't let it show. Neither does Atrus, for that matter."

"Atrus never lets the world see how he's feeling," said Saavedro disapprovingly, "If he keeps on the way he's going, the suppressed emotions will eventually be released - then we'll have quite a large mess on our hands."

"Hopefully it won't come to that."

I stood and stretched my arms above my head, wishing that I could see the sun setting on Narayan's horizon, but the shield covered the entire building so nothing could be seen.

"Well," I sighed, "I suppose I should be getting back. Achenar is leaving in a few days. . . I want to spend some time with him."

"And I should be getting back to Tamra. . ."

I grinned.

"Can't keep her waiting. . . how far along is she now?"

"Three months. . . I'm so scared. . . after what happened last time. . ."

The smile dropped from my face and I put a hand on Saavedro's shoulder.

"Hey. . . Saav. . . look at me. . ."

He turned his head slightly. I saw the fear and uncertainty in his eyes.

"Everything will be fine," I continued, "You'll see."

Saavedro looked back out into the distance.

"I hope you are right, Cecilia . . ."

I smirked.

"Me? Wrong? Never."

Saavedro laughed, saying, "Where did this sudden arrogance come from? You have been spending too much time with young Sirrus."

He stood, picking up the Linking Book as he did so.

"Hey, Sirrus is _not _that bad, Saav!" I protested.

"If you insist, Cecilia. However, I am _not _looking forward to him returning here."

I frowned. I hadn't ever heard anything like that from Saavedro before. Really, Sirrus wasn't that horrible. Yes, he was sometimes arrogant and he had a temper, but he was a nice young man on the whole. I knew, too, that he and Saavedro had clashed before, as opposed to the ease in which the teacher and Achenar conversed. I assumed that it was due to Sirrus' scientific nature conflicting with Saavedro's artistic side, but perhaps there was something deeper than that.

"Cecilia, I did not mean it like that," Saavedro said hurriedly, seeing the look I was giving him, "It is just that . . . well, Sirrus makes me uneasy, that is all."

"Uneasy? How so?" I asked, attempting to keep the ice from creeping into my voice.

Saavedro hesitated a moment, then, "Have you seen the way he looks at things? Studies them, analyzes them . . . when he looks at me . . . I feel as if I am nothing more than an insect under one of Atrus' microscopes. He is thirteen, not even an adult yet . . . and already I am intimidated - almost cowed - by this young man."

I shuddered. Yes, I knew the feeling . . . I was not at the receiving end of such a look often, but every once in a while, if I had gotten him angry enough . . . yes, that was exactly the look I would receive. I suppose I couldn't blame Saavedro for wanting to avoid it.

* * *

I linked back to Tomahna little more comforted then when I had linked out. My mind was at ease about Achenar's safety, but now memories of Sirrus flitted about the forefront of my thoughts, haunting me with every step I took. I delayed my return, choosing instead to stand on the balcony of Atrus' workshop, looking down upon the rest of the house. I could see Atrus himself in the kitchen speaking with Catherine. I didn't really expect the boys to be up due to the time difference between Tomahna and Narayan, but I could see both rooms' lights on. Achenar himself was sitting out on the balcony of his room next to the water, while Sirrus was hidden away inside.

Sirrus . . . that was the reason I delayed. I didn't want to see him. My heart sank at the thought. I shouldn't be afraid of him. I _shouldn't_. I had never been so before. But the conversation with Saavedro still haunted me, slowing my step as my heart cried for it not to be true. I looked down again, tracing the path to my room with my eyes, realizing that I would have to cross Sirrus' balcony to get to bed. I glanced around the workshop, idly wondering if I could find a comfortable place to sleep, then I felt horrible and rightly ashamed of myself.

"It's _Sirrus_ for Pete's sake, not some horrible villain!" I muttered to myself, "This _shouldn't_ be such an issue!"

"Good evening, Cecilia."

I turned my head slightly to see Atrus exiting the elevator. I was surprised that I didn't hear him, but I suppose that I was too involved in my thoughts to notice.

"Hello Atrus," I said, "Still up?"

"You are," he stated, walking to stand beside me.

"I suppose I am," I murmured, gazing out the window.

"You are upset." It wasn't a question.

"Really Atrus, it's nothing . . . just some things that Saavedro and I were discussing, that's all."

Atrus smiled knowingly, saying, "Is this about Achenar?"

" . . . no. It's not about Achenar."

"Then what, my friend?"

A movement from bellow caught my attention. I watched, tense, as Sirrus stepped from his room to the edge of his balcony. Atrus followed my gaze questioningly.

"Sirrus?"

I nodded.

"Why so worried, Cecilia? He is not in any sort of danger."

"I know he's not," I whispered, "It's . . . I can't explain it right now, Atrus."

Atrus put a hand on my shoulder.

"My friend," he said, smiling slightly, "You still cannot find words to explain things, though you spend your time writing beautiful and elaborate descriptions of places. I find that ironic."

I laughed aloud then, saying, "Places are easy to describe. People are not so simple."

Atrus laughed and then, to my surprise, he used the hand on my shoulder to steer me into the elevator.

"Hey wait!" I protested, attempting to scramble away from his grip.

"You need to talk to Sirrus."

"But-"

"Good_night_, Cecilia," he said, stepping back out of the elevator and flipping the switch.

I glared at him from inside, which only caused him to laugh all the more. I sighed and leaned against the side of the elevator. Atrus Pressure wins again.

Perhaps he was right. I knew I had to speak with Sirrus. I didn't even know why I was acting this way! It was just Sirrus being Sirrus. Maybe it was more the way Saavedro described it, possibly a little unintentional exaggeration on his part and more that a little overreaction on mine. Thinking back over the past month, I realized that I had been overreacting to _everything_. Stress, perhaps? Well, whatever it was, I still had to speak with Sirrus before I could rest.

I waved to Catherine as I walked to the kitchen balcony and flipped the switch for the bridge.

"Goodnight, Cecilia!" she called, waving back.

"Goodnight, Catherine!"

Sirrus looked up from his spot on the balcony at the sound of my voice, his gaze meeting mine. He didn't give me the bug-on-a-slide look, thank the gods, but only slightly irritated and a little amused.

"I saw you watching me," he stated as I stepped onto his balcony. I didn't exactly know how to respond to that, so I settled with standing next to him. We stood there for a time, not speaking, watching the stars.

"Why?" he asked after a time.

"Hmm?"

"Why were you watching me? And why did you look worried?"

" . . . It's nothing, Sirrus."

He gave a disbelieving snort.

"What? It's _nothing_!"

"It's always nothing," Sirrus said, a touch of bitterness edging into his voice, "Cecilia, I'm thirteen, not stupid. I know you went to Narayan today, and that you talked with Saavedro."

"Yes, I did-"

"He hates me," Sirrus said bluntly.

"He does not _hate_ you, Sirrus. Quit being-"

"Overdramatic. Yes, I hear that quite often as well."

"Well, it's true!"

Sirrus let out a frustrated growl, turning and walking away a few feet.

"Sirrus, what's wrong?"

"Everything!" he exploded, whirling to face me, "Everything is wrong! Achenar's going to J'nanin in three days - without me! Everyone has been all but ignoring me, making sure that Achenar's alright and that Achenar is prepared, never mind what _Sirrus_ wants, never mind asking if _Sirrus_ is alright, because Sirrus isn't old enough to merit any sort of attention!"

There was a few second's ringing silence before Sirrus sat down heavily on the ground. I slowly walked over and sat down next to him.

"He's going to be gone, Cecilia," Sirrus whispered, "Achenar is going to be gone, and I'll be here alone. I've never . . . I've never been away from Achenar before . . . what if he doesn't come back? What am I going to do then?"

I hugged him close, saying, "He'll come back, Sirrus, you'll see. Yes, it's hard to be away from your siblings sometimes, especially when you're as close as you two are. And yes, Achenar is going to get more attention for a while, but . . ."

I couldn't really think of anything more to say after that. At least, nothing that Sirrus hadn't already heard thousands of times over. Sirrus seemed to get the general idea, though, because he let a small smile show. I grinned and let go, letting him stand and allowing him to help me up.

"You're getting old, Cecilia," Sirrus said, snickering. I glared.

"I'm twenty-five, thank you very much," I stated, "I am not an old woman yet."

"Whatever makes you happy Cecilia."

I grinned, saying, "Oh, get to bed, young whippersnapper!"

"Not yet. I want to talk to Achenar first," Sirrus said, laughing.

"Alright, alright. Goodnight, Sirrus!"

"Goodnight, Cecilia," he said, taking the stairs down to Achenar's level.

As I turned away, though in lighter spirits, I couldn't help but gain a sense of foreboding. I knew that we would clash again. I glanced up at the sky, watching the stars twinkle.

"Anna . . . I'm going to need some help."

**A/N: I'm so glad I got though this chapter in one piece XD The next update is iffy. I have ScriptFrenzy in April, which is going to suck up ever available piece of free time I have. So . . . I guess you'll just have to wait and see!**


	17. The Quiet Path

**A/N: After more than three months . . . a chapter from a POV other than Cecilia's!? OMG! Yes, this chapter is switching perspectives! For the first time, we'll get to see into the mind of the eldest brother, our lovable Achenar. Enjoy! -**

Devokan Tsahno

Chapter 16

The Quiet Path

The first thing I noticed was the silence. The whole place was quiet. Nothing to disturb it but the slow lapping of waves against the shore and the wind whistling through some far-off space. It unnerved me, somewhat. The silence seemed almost . . . oppressive. Heavy in the air.

As I walked across the small bridge, I was suddenly struck with a sense of foreboding. It wasn't a logical feeling; nothing bad had ever happened here. And yet . . . I couldn't help but walk a little slower, a little more cautiously.

"Stop it, Achenar," I muttered to myself, "It's just J'nanin. Just an Age Father wrote. He wouldn't have put anything dangerous here. Nothing to worry about."

I climbed up the ladder and stepped out onto the cliff, turning around to get a better view of where I was. It was breathtaking in its apparent simplicity; a little island of brown and white floating on a deep blue sea. In the tusks that dotted the island, I could see doors and little windows. It seemed a good place to keep a Linking Book. I made a note of it in the back of my mind.

I wandered across the bridge and opened the door to the building that was sitting on a flattened tusk. It was cool inside, a welcome relief from the constant heat of the sun. I opened the second door ("Why is there a second door?") and entered what appeared to be an observatory. It was odd, though. There were no windows or other doors. It seemed to be a building that just . . . was.

As I walked around examining the room, I paused for a moment to lean against something. That something, however, proved to be a rather large button. I jumped, startled, as panels in the walls slid open to reveal mirror-like objects that pointed different colored lights at the ceiling.

"Achenar. . ."

I looked up at the ceiling to meet the smiling face of my father. Of course . . . an imager.

"Welcome to J'nanin," he continued, "This island is the first step on your journey to discover the meaning behind the Art. There are three Linking Books guarded by several puzzles. Remember the lessons you have been taught and you will be fine. Find the symbols hidden on each Age and bring them back here. Should you need help, there are a few devices in the house below. And, should you get hurt or into trouble, call for Saavedro. He will help you."

Father's face faded away. I turned to go, but another voice drew me back.

"Hey, Achenar."

I looked back up at the ceiling to see Cecilia, looking worried and tired as always.

"Be careful. These Ages are designed to teach you, but that doesn't mean they're safe. I know you're loath to call for help when in physical trouble, but . . . promise me you'll keep safe?"

I nodded, though I knew it was just a recording. She smiled.

"Oh, I know you'll be fine. Anyway, we'll see you when you get back!"

Her face faded away and the imager shut off, revealing three window type devices with strange controls.

"Well Achenar," I said to myself, "Time to get started."

I pulled out my journal and a pencil and approached the first one.

* * *

I don't think I've ever seen an Age quite like Edanna.

It was a massive tree growing out of a small island on the sea, its trunk shooting up to touch the sky hundreds of feet above the surface of the waves. As I climbed down into the lower reaches of the trunk, I realized that this must be Cecilia's Age, for there were no signs of the usual mechanical devices that cluttered the landscape of my father's. No, it was a pure, beautiful environment, virtually untouched by human hands.

As I made my way down, I started daydreaming about my own Age. I knew it would have the ocean, but looking around me now I decided that it would have a jungle as well. Perhaps a lake . . . and I'd have a ship. Not a gate like the Stoneship gate on Myst, but a proper boat to explore the sea on.

So involved was I in my musings that I failed to notice the snake in my path until I had stepped on it. It hissed angrily and reared up to bite. Looking around, I picked up the stick and hit it sharply on the side of the head. It blinked, stunned. I hit it again, and it finally realized that I wasn't worth the trouble and slithered off into the bushes.

After a time, I came across another imager. Smaller this time, but blank. It seemed as though Father had wanted to record something on it at some point in time, but had forgotten about it. I grinned. I could use this. I hit the record button and sat where the imager could see me.

"Hello little brother," I said, still grinning madly, "I hope you're having fun here. I also hope something hasn't gotten to you yet. I just found this _massive_ snake that could have swallowed me whole! Also, I think I heard something roar a while back . . .and did you see that plant? Wouldn't want to even _think _about going near that! Anyway, enjoy the rest of Edanna, Sirrus!"

I switched off the imager and chuckled to myself. I could be a cruel human being sometimes.

* * *

_Crash! Crash! Crash!_

"Gah!" I yelled in frustration, slamming my hands down on the panel. "Forty times! Forty times, and that thing _still_ isn't balanced right!"

Grumbling, I pulled the lever to send the platform back to the ground. In truth, I had found this puzzle first. However, I had given up after the first thirty tries and had gone to solve the other puzzles. When I linked in, I was horrified at the changes that had been made to this Age. The mechanical devices (surely my father's work) marred the once beautiful landscape, turning it into a twisted maze of steel and rock. Now, however, I was more preoccupied with getting this to balance.

"Alright, this _must_ be it." I said, realigning the weights and returning to the platform. Once I was in the air again, I flicked a few switches and sent the ball rolling again. I cheered at the ball rolled smoothly over the metal bridge. I took out my notebook and quickly sketched out the combination before lowering the platform and running to the exit.

As with Edanna, another imager was waiting for me here. I pressed record and sat in the (_. . . purple and orange!?_) seat.

"Sirrus, I hate this Age," I said, glaring at the wall, "I hate the changes and I hate the puzzles. Of course, _you_ probably didn't have any trouble with them, but all the same . . ."

I paused for a moment, collecting myself.

"I suppose I shouldn't be so harsh. It just seems . . . _wrong_, the changes Father made. They look added on rather than complete. I think that's why Cecilia was upset when she returned. Her first Age . . . destroyed. But what's done is done, I suppose . . . keep going, Sirrus, you're almost done with Amateria."

_My Age will be complete_, I thought as I later hovered above Amateria on the floating rock, _Everything will be in balance and beautiful. There won't be anything mechanical . . . not ever._

* * *

Boring. That was the first word that popped into my head when I arrived in Voltaic. A great expanse of Boring.

It wasn't a fair observation, but as I explored deeper into the Age, the word became rooted all the firmer in my mind. Where was the color? Where was the beauty in this Age? It was a mass of brown and gray, with a bit of blue here and there. Although, there was a room with lava. That was quite interesting. But it certainly wasn't beautiful.

The puzzles here were harder as well. Oftentimes I would have to leave and sit by the water before I decided to break the machine I was working on. Also, someone (I would guess my father) forgot to leave the door to the lava room unlocked, so I was required to crawl across a pipe that spanned the chasm. I was defiantly the most terrified I'd ever been in that entire trip.

The only part of Voltaic I liked was the sea. It was the purest color of blue - even more so than back on Myst Island. I felt calm there, at peace with the word. I was away from the heat and the sun and the rock. I even slept near the sea, up in the tower with the waterwheel controls.

The long delay in Voltaic gave me time to think. I though of Sirrus, sitting alone in his room, not speaking to anyone, rage and hurt his only company. There was something dark in Sirrus that scared me more than any pipe-crawling ordeal ever could. It wasn't outright obvious, but it was there. The smiles that he doesn't mean, the curt way he speaks, the jealous (and, every once in a while, sinister) glances out of the corners of his eyes . . .

My brother was falling faster than I could catch him, and I didn't know what to do.

At once, I was reminded of a story Cecilia told us when we were younger. It told of great battles waged across the stars, and knights who fought to protect the people of all the Ages. But there was one knight who fell and betrayed them all because of jealously and greed.

Was that where my brother was going? Was he going to that dark place? Could I pull him back, as the knight's son did?

It was this thought that propelled me through the rest of Voltaic as fast as I possibly could. Even my message in the imager was brief.

"Remember the story of the fallen knight."

I was out of Voltaic and into Narayan by the end of the day.

* * *

I expected someone to be waiting for me when I linked in, but it was not so. Instead, I was met with more puzzles. The shields on the tree were both up. I growled in frustration, my normally endless patience quickly wearing thin. The fact that I _could not remember the mantras _didn't help very much. After about three hours of working around a frantic mind and a pounding headache, I was on the gondola and on my way to Narayan.

I took the time then to breath and relax, calming down my fraying nerves. Sirrus was still going to be there when I get back, I reasoned. Yet even that didn't silence the nagging voice in the back of my mind that something was amiss. I barely noticed that the gondola had stopped and that Saavedro was calling out my name.

I stepped from the gondola in a daze, glancing around and attempting to find a linking book. Saavedro seemed to notice my searching.

"The Book is at my home, young Achenar," he said.

"And may I go home?"

Saavedro shook his head, saying, "Your father requested that you remain here for a few days, in order to study Narayan and it's workings."

I took a deep breath to calm myself. Saavedro noticed this and asked what was wrong.

"Nothing, nothing," I said, "just a long trip."

Saavedro nodded and led the way back to his house.

_Sirrus_, I thought, glancing around the familiar streets, _I'll be back soon._

**A/N: A finished chapter! Lucky peoples! I actually started this chapter _the day after I posted the previous one_. Yes, it took me three months to write. But dang, I did it!**


	18. Ultimatum

**A/N: Well that was quick, wasn't it?**

Devokan Tsahno

Chapter 17

Ultimatum

"Why can I not go _now_, Father?" echoed a raised voice from the walkway.

"Because you are too young!" the other said, voice not as angry but just as loud, "Besides, your understanding of the Art is minimal at best! This is something that takes _time_, Sirrus!"

"It is taking _too much _time!"

Atrus' voice quieted and, though I strained, I could not make out what he was saying. It seemed comforting, though. However, judging by Sirrus' sharper tones, it wasn't helping. Finally, I watches as Sirrus stalked by the kitchen in disgust, walking across the bridge and disappearing into his room. Atrus followed a moment later, his face etched with worry and pain. He sighed and dropped into the chair next to me.

"What am I going to do with him, Cecilia?" he asked after at while.

"Shouldn't you be discussing this with Catherine?"

Atrus shook his head.

"I don't want to worry her. Besides, she's working on something on Chroma'Agana . . . you know how she is when she's disturbed in the middle of a project."

The words 'demonic hellspawn rage' popped into my head, but I wisely decided not to voice that opinion. All right, perhaps she wasn't _that_ bad . . .

"Furthermore," he continued, "You are around him much more often than we are, even if I do spend a good portion of the day with him . . . and even then, he's much more a student and much less my son."

_I spend time with him? _I thought, confused. _Only when _he _wants to, and that's next to never._

"It's the way his mind works, Atrus," I said. "He's all business, you know that."

"He's so _impatient_!"

"He's also not me. He's not Achenar either. He views what you're teaching him differently. You . . . have to relate, I guess."

"That is precisely the problem," Atrus said, "I do not know _how_."

I laughed.

"Atrus, it shouldn't be that hard! With a few major exceptions, he thinks exactly like you do!"

He didn't seem to believe me.

"Ok, answer this for me," I said, "If you were an angry, impatient genius teenager with an overly analytical mind, how would _you_ want to learn the Art?"

Atrus thought about this a moment.

"I . . . suppose I would want to learn as fast as possible, as smoothly as possible, without any stops."

"Good. You're getting it."

"And," Atrus continued with enthusiasm, "I would be angry at anyone who thought I couldn't do it, or that I was too young, or . . . oh."

"Oh," I agreed, giving him a critical look over the edge of my glasses.

Atrus didn't respond.

"'Because you are too young!'" I said, echoing his words, "'Besides, your understanding of the Art is minimal at best! This is something that takes _time_, Sirrus!' Is that something _you'd _want to hear?"

" . . . No."

"Good place to start, then," I said, standing and stretching, "If you don't think he'll like what you say, don't say it unless you're absolutely _sure _you have to."

I made to walk out the door, but paused in the doorway.

"Sirrus wants to take apart and analyze everything," I said, "Let him. It'll keep him focused. He doesn't want to be treated like a student, or even a son - he wants to be a peer, an _equal_."

"But he is _not_ a peer and _not_ an equal. He is a student. For him to be treated like an equal, he has to earn it. _Earn_, not _demand_. I am loath to speak to him so, but it must be done. Your counsel is informative and given in the best intentions and I will keep it in mind, but on those last few points I must disagree with you."

I shrugged.

"Ok Atrus . . . ok. You do what you think is best."

* * *

Things did get better. Sort of. The tension didn't disappear between Atrus and Sirrus, but it quieted. The fights became less frequent, and there was a semblance of peace in Tomahna. The two did not speak very often outside of lessons, but at least they could have a civil conversation when necessary.

Still, 'civil conversation' was a far cry from how things used to be back on Myst. There was always laughing then. There was smiling and singing and storytelling. And happiness. Contented happiness. I realized that we hadn't had that in a long time. It seemed that keeping everyone happy at the same time was as hard as keeping water in your cupped hands.

But, as I had to remind myself over and over again, this wasn't Myst. This was Tomahna, and it had a different set of problems, different difficulties to overcome. But I couldn't help but feel as though things were falling apart again and there was nothing I could do about it. Atrus made it very clear that he wanted to do things his own way. I couldn't interfere with his decision, no matter how much I wanted to. Still, it was hard to sit by and do nothing . . .

I was torn between my overwhelming need to fix things and my love and respect for Atrus.

I do not know why I found myself in the garden late that night. It was calming, a cool spring breeze giving relief from the heat of the day. I pushed aside thoughts of Sirrus and Atrus and the problems of Tomahna and stretched out on one of the benches, book in hand. I did not even know that the two were in the study until Sirrus' raised voice sounded out from behind the green glass doors.

"Father, I _am_ ready, can you not see? I have done and understood everything that you have taught me, every seemingly meaningless task, ever recitation of every law and rule under the sun! And yet you refuse to let me anywhere near J'nanin or practice book!"

Curiosity getting the better of me, I set my book on the bench and crept closer to the doors. Soon, Atrus' voice followed Sirrus' out.

"Sirrus, you _do not understand_! You are _not_ understanding the care that is needed, the absolute certainty! You rush through everything we do, tossing it aside as if it were nothing. You keep telling me that you understand, but you are missing the entire point! The Art is not something to be taken so lightly!"

"I do not take it lightly, Father! You are being untruthful and unfair!"

"This world is not always fair."

"Nanna would have let me!"

Dead silence. The air suddenly became thick with tension and raw anger and even from behind the door I could feel the oncoming storm.

"Nanna would not have overlooked my honest efforts!" Sirrus continued, "Nanna would have-"

"Sirrus!" Atrus thundered, "If you do not cease this infantile attitude of yours, I will have no choice but to discontinue your D'ni studies altogether!"

Silence again. I backed away from the door in shock, both at the tone and the words. Discontinue Sirrus' studies? Would Atrus really _do_ that? _Could_ he do that?

No sooner had I gotten a good distance away from the doors then Sirrus himself burst out of them, hurt etched into his face, the beginnings of tears at the corners of his eyes. He didn't even look at me as he passed. Atrus made to follow him, but he thought better of it and hovered in the doorway, watching him go with sorrow and diminishing rage. He glanced at me then went into the rest of the house, presumably on the way to his workshop.

I slowly sank onto a bench and buried my face in my hands.

"This is a disaster," I whispered, "How did it come to this?"

I didn't even look up when I heard the roar of the link, thinking it was merely Catherine returning from her trip. It was only when a familiar voice called my name that I brought my eyes up from the floor.

"Cecilia?"

It was Achenar. He looked much different now, but I could not place it. It was a look in his eyes . . . a mature understanding that hadn't been there before. As I met his gaze, the smile that he had slipped off into worry.

"Cecilia? What is wrong?"

I hesitated for a moment. I did not want to tell him what had just transpired between Sirrus and Atrus. However, I also didn't want him to walk in there blind. . .

"Everything," I told him, "Everything is wrong."

"Tell me," he said, sitting by me and putting a comforting hand on my shoulder.

" . . . I do not know where to begin."

Achenar grinned.

"Begin at the beginning and go on until you come to the end, then stop. That's what the King said, wasn't it?"

I smiled.

"Yes . . . but this doesn't seem to have a beginning. It's something that's been happening for years and years and it's starting to snowball out of control and I _cannot stop it _and-"

"Cecilia, slow down. What are you talking about?"

"Sirrus! He's . . ." I trailed off, unable to put to words what I saw unfolding before my eyes.

" . . . He's so angry," I said after a time, "Always so angry . . . so impatient. He's growing bitter, resentful of everything done . . . and today . . . Atrus just lost it. Even _his_ patience is wearing thin . . . he finally told Sirrus that if he didn't start behaving, he'd stop teaching him D'ni . . ."

"Stop teaching him D'ni?" Achenar asked, aghast. I nodded.

"It's been row after row with those two . . . for a while it was stable, but I don't know what happened . . . it all started sliding back downhill again."

Achenar leaned back against the wall, staring out at the desert in contemplation.

Then, "Have you tried talking to him?"

"He won't let me."

"I see," he murmured, "Three weeks gone and everything's in chaos . . ."

"It's not just that . . . it's been like that since Anna died," I said quietly, "I don't think Atrus and Sirrus ever recovered from that."

"I do not think so, either," Achenar said. "Yes, Anna is dead, and I miss her still, but . . . not like Father. Not like Sirrus. I don't think they've accepted it yet, even after all these years."

"Sirrus is starting to use her name as a weapon against Atrus."

"Clever," Achenar muttered, sounding as if he tasted something vile, "Using Father's own pain against him . . . how did he take it?"

"Atrus yelled," I said, "Atrus _never_ yells."

Achenar frowned.

"No. . . no he doesn't . . . where is he now?"

"Workshop, most likely. Sirrus is probably in his room and Catherine's on Chroma'Agana."

"Good," Achenar said, rising to his feet, "I can talk to them individually. Creates less problems that way. I'll talk to Sirrus first, then to Father, perhaps visit Mother in the morning . . ."

I was stunned. This was a different Achenar than the one I knew less than a month ago. This Achenar knew what to do, why, and, most importantly, _how_ . . . I could see it in his eyes. J'nanin gave him time to think. And it seemed like he had a plan.

"Achenar, I said, "Good luck. You're going to need it."

"Thank you . . . and Cecilia?"

"Yes?"

"Sirrus isn't the Knight."

**A/N: Let's play guess the reference again! The Knight doesn't count, you got that one in the last chapter. Neither does "the plan."**


	19. It's the Plaaan

**A/N: Excuse the overused quote that is the title of this chapter. It's hopefully a little relief from the previous. Have fun, keep reviewing, and be patient with me. I'm only one author, after all XD**

Devokan Tsahno

Chapter 18

It's . . . The Plaaan

_One year later . . ._

I just had to hand it to Achenar. He knew what he was doing more than the rest of us did. In a way, it seemed that he became exactly what we all needed: someone to tell us that we were a bunch of idiots without actually directly stating so. I hadn't realized exactly what I was contributing to the problem until Achenar said something.

"You try to fix things here, Cecilia," he said. "You do an acceptable job, to an extent. Sometimes, though, you don't really understand how everything fits together. You have to let others fix their own problems every once in a while."

It was, he said, my biggest flaw. I suppose he was right.

After that, Achenar found a Linking Book that led to a long-abandoned type of "vacation Age" that we had visited often when we were younger. It was mostly a long stretch of beach with sand dunes and grassy fields and whatnot. Through an interesting combination of he-said she-said nonsense, he managed to get both Atrus and Catherine to link there. It was nice for them, I think, to spend some time together without the rest of us bothering them, even if he _did_ trick them into it. In the meantime, Achenar, Sirrus, and I cleaned and organized pretty much everything in Tomahna, save for Atrus' workshop. We thought it better if we didn't tackle that terrifying pile of wires and things that could potentially explode. Besides, he kept a good amount of his Books up there and I didn't think he'd be very happy to return and find out that we accidentally burnt them all.

Atrus and Catherine were pleasantly surprised when they returned to find everything clean and polished to a shine. Atrus was especially pleased that we managed to fix the elevator. It hadn't been moving down and across the water like it should, stubbornly only moving between the workshop and the garden level. On closer inspection, Sirrus found a problem in the wiring that wrongly stated that part of the track was broken, despite the fact that we'd checked the thing a quarter of a million times and found nothing wrong.

Little by little, things started to shift into a comfortable pattern of familiarity and peace that I had so horribly missed from years ago. Atrus began socializing again, traveling to Ages to visit old friends and joining us for regular meals (though, as always, lunch was a bit of a free-for-all). Catherine locked herself in her study for several hours and, when we peeked in the window, we discovered she was Writing. Sirrus, Achenar, and I stayed up well into the night imagining what strange and wondrous things she'd come up with.

Achenar himself went right back to painting again as though nothing had ever happened, as though these few years of tension never existed at all. He took great pride in displaying his works all around the house, giving them as gifts, or, on rare occasion, selling them or trading them away. He made a fair profit, too.

Sirrus, though still somewhat reclusive, started to actively (and willingly) leaving his room (what I affectionately dubbed "the cave") to see the rest of us. His lessons with Atrus were still somewhat strained, but the fighting had all but stopped. The music was better, too, and the air of Tomahna was filled with beautiful song instead of harsh discord.

I stood out on the balcony of the kitchen. I could hear Sirrus playing from his room. The sweet smells of dinner wafted into the air, Catherine humming along to the music. Achenar sat somewhere behind me, sketching something in his journal. I glanced up to the workshop and could barely make out Atrus' form standing in the window.

I smiled and waved, walking back into the kitchen. I sat next to Achenar and watched as he drew a picture of a ship. It stuck upright in the water, waves crashing around it's battered structure.

"What's that?" I asked.

"Just a thought," he replied, shading in part of the wreck, "It's going to be part of my Age."

"Oh? How's that going?"

"Well, actually," he said, putting his pen down. "I have a good idea of what I want, now . . ."

I grinned.

"Now you just have to Write it."

Achenar laughed.

"You make it sound so simple."

"It really isn't."

"Oh, that's encouraging. I expected you to say something like, 'Oh, it's not as hard as it seems.'"

"Ah, but then I'd be lying to you and that wouldn't help you any."

"True, true."

"Do you have a name yet?"

Achenar looked to his drawing and traced the outline of the ship.

"Haven," he said after a moment, "It's called Haven."

"Haven, eh? Sounds pleasant enough."

"Oh, it's not," he said, grinning, "There's beasts there that'll eat you if you're not careful!"

"You and your vicious beasts!"

"It's part of every good ecosystem, Cecilia. You have to have the vicious beasts that eat the not-so-vicious beasts that eat the plants."

I could almost, _almost_ hear a 'duh' on the end of that statement. I laughed.

"Too true. You're learning fast, kid."

"Ah, but I'm not a child anymore, Cecilia."

I smiled sadly, saying, "No, you're not. You're almost an adult. It's a scary thought."

"Not as scary a thought as _Sirrus_ being an adult."

"What is this about me being terrifying?"

I looked up to see Sirrus leaning in the doorframe, smirking. Achenar laughed.

"Oh, we're just talking about how you'll be terrorizing all the people of the Ages when you grow up," he said.

"I do not know about _terrorizing_, Achenar," he replied. But his brother just chuckled and got up to help Catherine with dinner. Sirrus shook his head and started setting the table.

"He's just teasing you Sirrus."

Sirrus paused for a fraction of a second.

"I know," he said, "But it still bothers me - I do not know why. With things being as they are now, I shouldn't be so tense."

He sighed. "It's easy to slip into old habits, I suppose. This natural suspicion."

" . . . Remind me how old you are again?"

Sirrus smiled.

"I am fourteen, Cecilia. Surely old age hasn't prompted you to forget."

"You and my age!" I laughed, "You're always talking about my age! Need I remind you that your parents are twelve years older than I am?"

"Ah, but if I said the same to them, I would be in far worse trouble."

"Oh no, you can't pull blood immunity on _me_, Sirrus!"

Sirrus smirked, saying, "I can and I will. It is easier to get back into your good graces than Father's."

I thought about this a moment, attempting to come up with something to shoot back at him.

"Stunned by my impressive vocabulary, Cecilia?" he asked, grinning in apparent victory.

I grinned evilly.

"Nope. I am merely distracted by the fact that your voice breaks at every other word. The _squeaking_ renders your comments ineffective."

Sirrus blushed slightly, but smirked and bowed to me.

"A fair fight. This hand goes to you, but you will not be so fortunate next time."

"That would be _after _your voice drops, Sirrus. You can't be evil and threatening whilst sounding like a mouse being stepped on."

He merely laughed and waved it off, returning to setting the table at Catherine's insistence.

"So . . . do you have a name for your Age too, Sirrus?"

"Hmph. Of course I do. I have known exactly what I want my Age to be for years now. . . A soaring palace of rock and crystal in a sea of clouds, suspended over a bright green star . . ."

He trailed off a moment, lost in thought. He then shook his head, returning to his senses.

"It's a far off dream for now. As much as it irks me, it will have to wait. Father and I are busy programming the crystal viewer again, regardless."

"Again? Can't Atrus already see all of his Ages?"

Sirrus glanced around, then turned to me with a low voice and said, "It's not Father, it's Mother. She wishes to view her home Age, Riven."

I felt my blood run cold at the name. I hadn't heard it for years . . .

"Why are Atrus and Catherine so concerned about Riven _now_?"

Sirrus shook his head.

"I don't know . . . but I can tell you that nothing good is going to come of it. Why would they want to see an old Age? Couldn't they just link there and see for themselves?"

I shook my head, thinking of what Atrus had told me of his father that day on J'nanin. I sighed.

"No, Sirrus . . . some things just aren't that simple."


	20. A Rock and a Hard Place

**A/N: Another chapter for you amazingly loyal readers! Sorry this one was so late - there's been some personal issues that prevented me from writing for a long time. Stuff's good now, so I hope to keep getting faster at this!**

Devokan Tsahno

Chapter 19

A Rock and a Hard Place

I sat upon one of the rocks on the shore, breathing in the hot, humid air. I watched as the sea crashed violently against the rocks on the other side of the lagoon, sending shimmering gold spray hundreds of feet in the air. Sirrus sat on my left, writing away in his notebook, occasionally brushing away a strand of hair that managed to escape the tie that held it back. Achenar was leaning against the rock on Sirrus' other side, watching him write. He laughed.

"Still bitter about the camoudile, Sirrus?" he asked innocently.

Sirrus grumbled. He set down his pencil and rolled up his ripped pant leg, exposing rows of white bandaging.

"Those things are monstrous, Achenar," he said, "Did you see what it did to my leg?"

Achenar rolled his eyes in a manner more befitting of a nine year old than a nineteen year old.

"Sirrus, it barely nicked you. Honestly, there was only a little blood. It was just . . . well, rather spread out."

"'Rather spread out'? Yes, Achenar. Two foot long gashes in my leg can certainly qualify as 'rather spread out'. How did Father ever allow you to write such things into Haven?"

Achenar grinned. Sirrus turned to look at him fully.

"You never told him about the camoudiles?"

"I thought it best not to."

The corners of Sirrus' mouth twitched in a barely repressed smile.

"I was wondering why he had that particularly amusing look on his face. I take it he didn't realize exactly what camoudiles _were_ when he read through the Descriptive Book?"

"Actually, I added them after the fact."

Sirrus smiled.

"Tricky. It _was_ rather priceless, truth be told. How would you describe his look, Cecilia?"

I grinned, saying, "Somewhere between shock, fear, anger, and amusement. It wouldn't have been funny, except that his face couldn't quite figure out which his expression to stay with. He ended up looking like he ate a particularly sour lemon."

The boys laughed and continued to compare experiences on Haven. Though, they were no longer boys. Achenar was nineteen, towering over me at a sometimes intimidating six foot five. None of us figured out how he was so tall - Atrus himself was barely six feet and Catherine was a little taller than me. He had what I used to refer to as a 'football player's build', meaning tall, muscular, and broad-shouldered. Sixteen year old Sirrus, however, was a lean and lanky five nine, though with the rate he was growing, I had predicted that he'd be nearly as tall as Achenar by the time he was twenty.

A sudden splash snapped me out of my thoughts. I looked down to see Sirrus resurfacing out of the muddy yellow water, shoulder length hair plastered to his face. He pushed it aside roughly and glared up and his brother, who was laughing hysterically and leaning against the rocks for support because of it. Sirrus shouted a few choice swears before swimming off to find an open bit of the shoreline.

"Achenar!" I yelled at him, trying very hard to appear angry despite my urge to giggle, "That was uncalled for!"

"Perhaps, but it was also most amusing."

Sirrus returned to us some minutes later, wringing water out of his now matted hair and soaking clothes.

He stomped up to Achenar, saying, "Pray tell, why did you feel the need to do that?"

"Because."

"'Because' is not an acceptable answer!"

Achenar looked down at Sirrus and laughed.

"Whatever you say, _prinahm_."

Sirrus' eye twitched even as he glared up at him.

"I do say, _pahrah bahro_!"

Achenar narrowed his eyes.

"_Ril! Hehvteeom rilrobot!_"

Sirrus smirked.

"_Hehvteeoy _tsahn_ robot._"

Achenar lightly smacked him upside the head. Sirrus hit him in the arm. This was followed by a spectacular splash as Achenar picked him up and threw him back in the ocean.

Even though they were not boys anymore, sometimes I wondered if they had mentally aged backwards.

* * *

Sirrus was huddled in front of the fire later that night back in Tomahna, hands wrapped tightly around a steaming cup of coffee. He was the victim of two more dips in the ocean, both courtesy of Achenar. Catherine was giving him a lecture in the kitchen about how he was supposed to be the 'responsible one' and that 'even though he was an adult, it was no excuse to treat his brother like that.'

I pulled a blanket out of the closet and wrapped it around him, trying to protect him from the chilly Tomahna air. He mumbled a quick 'thank you', but otherwise didn't move. I sighed and retrieved a brush and chair. I sat behind him and started brushing out the tangled mass that was his hair.

We sat in silence like this for a time, listening to the sounds of Catherine's ranting and Achenar's protesting. A slight cough from Sirrus drew my attention.

"Are you getting ill, Sirrus?"

"I'm fine."

Another cough, more pronounced this time. I frowned. Sirrus seemed to sense this.

"Don't tell Mother and Father, Cecilia. I'm supposed to go to J'nanin in a few days. If they know I'm ill, they'll delay it even more."

"They probably will anyway. You _did_ just get mauled by a camoudile."

"It will be healed enough by then."

I sighed, saying, "Sirrus, _please_. What if it's more serious than that? I don't want you to get sick when you're alone out there."

"I am not going to get worse," he said, "I shall be fine. Please, Cecilia. I've been waiting four years for this. Everything's so _close_. Everything I've ever worked for is within my reach. I cannot wait any longer, Cecilia. Please. Let me go."

I bit my lip, anxious. I didn't know what to do. I couldn't deny him this; it almost tore this family apart the last time. True, he was more mature now, but it wasn't an excuse to let something possibly horrible happen to him. I also thought of Atrus and Catherine and how they _should _know that Sirrus is sick - he's their son, after all, and I had no place to keep something like that from them, but . . . I couldn't ignore the pleading tone in his voice, though . . . couldn't ignore the absolute desperation.

" . . . Ok, Sirrus," I said after a few minutes, "I won't say anything. But promise me you'll come back if it starts getting serious."

"I promise, Cecilia."

"Good."

Sirrus pulled out a strip of red cloth and carefully tied his hair back, making sure that not a strand was out of place. grumbling about the unfairness of older brothers all the while.

I laughed, saying, "And what of older sisters, Sirrus?"

Sirrus smirked.

"Older sisters are good for keeping secrets . . . sometimes. I have yet to find another use for them, though. However, they are fun to irritate."

"Oh, you!"

Sirrus just laughed.

"I tease, Cecilia. I do not know what I would do without you, dear sister."

"Aww, you flatter me."

"I am serious," he said, turning around to face me, "I know this cannot be easy for you, keeping a secret like this from Father - yes, I know that is your main concern, do not look at me like that - and I am thankful that you are. You have always defended Achenar and me, even though it tears you apart to do so."

I smiled, saying, "Someone has to. Who else would if I wouldn't?"

* * *

The days following were abuzz with activity. Everyone was rushing about collecting supplies, making food, packing, and making sure that Sirrus wasn't going to bring thirty changes of clothes ("You only need five shirts" was not an appreciated statement). Atrus increased Sirrus' lessons to the point where we hardly ever saw him, as though he was attempting cram as much knowledge as he could into the young man's skull. Saavedro even visited a few times, mostly to instruct him on safety practices and to drag me to the lesson Ages to help reset the puzzles, something that was about as much fun as watching paint dry.

Sirrus was being run ragged by the two men, and it was beginning to show. Dark circles had begun appearing under his eyes from the lack of sleep, which Catherine attributed to excitement after she was sure that Sirrus was in perfect health, save for the camoudile scratches. Sirrus insisted that they did not hurt or bother him in any way, so she let it go. Later, she confided to me that she was concerned about him, noticing a drop in weight and paleness, but I held my tongue. I had promised, after all.

The day arrived for him to leave far too quickly. He was up before any of us, bag propped up on the chair next to him, writing away in his journal. The large cup of coffee and the slight trembling told me he hadn't slept much, if at all. Even through his exhaustion, though, I could see an overwhelming excitement building in him as we sat there and talked. Eventually, Catherine and Achenar arrived with Atrus trailing behind, holding a book under his arm. Sirrus saw it and his face split into a wide, shining grin. No other words were spoken as Atrus set out the Book in front of him. Sirrus watched the Linking Panel for a moment, lost in thought. Then, without a word to anyone, he picked up his bag and linked.

**A/N: Translations for you:**

_**Prinahm**_** - Small man (not a very good translation)**

_**Pahrah bahro **_**- large beast man**

_**Ril! Hehvteeom rilrobot!**_** - No! You lie! (lit. No! Your words not actual!)**

_**Hehvteeoy **_**tsahn****_ robot _- I am _always_ right. (lit. My words _always_ actual)**


	21. All For Pride

**A/N: Not much to say about this chapter, except that it's rather strange and it's in Sirrus' POV. It's definitely one of my favorites, though. Enjoy! ^-^**

Devokan Tsahno  
Chapter 20  
All For Pride

I stepped out onto the dry, dusty ground and immediately shielded my eyes from the glaring sun. Even then, it did little to allow me to see. Squinting, I sorted through my bag, pulling out a pair of brass and leather goggles. I slipped them over my eyes and looked up again through the tinted lenses. Turning in a circle, I saw that I was on yet another island, which surprised me not. Islands, as Father had said, were some of the most basic - yet complex - of Age types. Tusks rose from the ground as though I was standing on the mouth of some massive sea creature. I walked to the nearest one and tapped it. It echoed back. Hollow.

I took a step back to examine it. As I did so, I spotted a ladder that lead down past the rock I was standing on. Curious, I climbed down it. I found myself in a small cave-type structure across the water from the adjacent cave wall. Across that wall was a type of ramp system, a ladder, and a large wheel that seemed to be blocking the door. In front of me were a set of controls. I pulled one and part of the ramp moved down. I pushed another up. The part of the ramp that held the wheel moved and it rolled down across the ramp to the middle of the system. After a few minutes of experimenting with the controls, I managed to maneuver the wheel to the other side and set the ladder straight again. Satisfied, I climbed back up to the rock, strode across, and climbed down the ladder.

Walking into the tusk, I found a strange device. It seemed to be make of marbles that moved around circular tracks. No combination of positions I tried make the cage above me move and, looking closer, I saw that said cage contained a Linking Book. Amused and ever-so-slightly irritated by the challenge, I made my way back into the sunlight.

* * *

I listened to my father speak from the ceiling recording with a boredom born of familiarity. I have heard similar speeches for years and this one was hardly different, save for the dire warnings of various venomous beasts and perilous drops. It sounded more exciting than dangerous. I sighed with relief when Father's face faded and was replaced with Cecilia's warm smile. Her speech was similar enough to Father's that I didn't really listen to that, either. But I did watch her anyway.

It was the first time in a long time that I stopped to really look at her. She looked much older than her mere twenty-eight years. Not that you could see it in her face. She was quite a beautiful woman and she had attracted the attentions of many men on many Ages. I vaguely wondered why she turned them all down. Well, the ones Achenar and I didn't chase off. We were very protective of our dear sister, after all.

I can't help but feel sorry for her. I don't think she ever quite got over -

The noise of the imager switching off startled me out of my thoughts. Looking around me, I saw that three viewers were now opened, all containing controlling devices and some sort of marble indicator. I fiddled around with the levers a little, observing how each one made the marbles move, as well as focusing and moving a symbol on the glass. I grinned and focused it on a symbol on the tusk. Ah, Father, what a gift this is! What fun I shall have here!

* * *

I stepped out onto Amateria's platform and gasped. What . . . what had happened here? These metal constructs . . . these were never here. They never _should_ have been! It was a strange, twisted beauty, but at the same time it enraged me. How could Cecilia have let Father mar her Age like this? I knew it was Father's work - only he could have designed such a think. The careless mistakes showed themselves in the way the rock formations jutted out of the water like the ribcage of a large fish. He did not know the Age well enough.

And may it be noted that this was when I found out that I have developed a rather awkward fear of heights. After heartily agreeing with everything Achenar said in his message ("Why no, I didn't have a problem with these puzzles, dear Achenar."), I soared up above the large building on little more than floating rocks. Momentarily blinded by the dizzying height, I focused instead on what was keeping me afloat. The rocks seemed to have electromagnetic properties which were repelling against each other, propelling me into the sky.

"Interesting reaction," I thought aloud, "useful and peculiar. Perhaps I can use them in my own Age . . ."

I trailed off, looking about me lost in thought (and anywhere but down). I shook my head and returned to my task, grinning triumphantly as the lights on the panel connected and lit.

That's when I dropped.

* * *

There was little to be said of Voltaic. There were some interesting items of note that I wrote down for my own Age, mostly dealing with magnetism and wind power. I heartily believe that Father designed this Age in order to make sure I was praying to the Maker properly - something I was doing quite a bit of as I inched my way across a pipe dangling over a hundred foot drop.

Achenar's message about the Knight puzzled me, but I brushed it off as one of those strange things that my brother said and never thought about before or after.

I entered Edanna with rather low expectations and high nerves. I was not a "nature person" by any means. I disliked being in places with large animal populations and humid climes, preferring both hot and cold - yet dry - environments. It was here that the illness that had been plaguing me on Tomahna flared up again, forcing me to stop frequently to rest and catch my breath after yet another coughing fit. The more I stopped, the more determined I was to ignore it, choosing instead to push on with even more enthusiasm and energy than I perhaps actually possessed.

It was only after the sun was just beginning to set that I realized that I had become hopelessly lost. At night, no matter where I was on an Age, I always returned to J'nanin to rest and think over what I had accomplished and where I was having difficulty. Now I could barely tell where the sky was, and there was no path beneath my feet. I had my emergency Linking Book with me, of course, but I was loath to use it. Perhaps it was foolish of me, but I wished to get to Narayan of my own accord, not through a direct link there. I do not think I could have faced Saavedro or my father if I did.

I stopped at a small clearing to rest and make camp for the night. I gathered what little dry wood I could find and started a small, weak fire. Not enough to drive the oncoming cold away, but hopefully enough to keep any large animals from getting too curious. I had no blanket, so I covered myself as best I could with my traveling cloak and used my pack as a pillow. It would do for now. In the morning, I would wake and find my way out of here.

I do not know how long I was asleep before my own violent coughing woke me again; all I knew then was pain and heat. My vision swam and warped as beads of sweat trickled down my face. Inwardly I cursed my own stupidity and mindlessness as my hands scrambled through my pack for my water. I drank greedily, attempting to alleviate the heat and pain in my throat, but to no avail. I tossed it away. I reached out for something more and my fingers brushed the edge of the Book.

I couldn't bring myself to link. I do not know was possessed me to ignore it, but some foolish bit of pride pushed it aside again. All I could see was Father's disappointed expression and Saavedro, never showing it on his face, but taunting me with his eyes, finally showing that I have failed. Cecilia, Achenar, and Mother would never say anything, but I would know what they thought. I'd see their disappointment, clear as day. It was the image of them that imprinted itself in my mind as I slipped into blissful unconsciousness.

* * *

_This ground feels awfully soft . . ._

I blearily opened my eyes to warm mid-afternoon sun. My head was light and throbbing painfully, my chest aflame. I was, however, in a large bed, surrounded by soft pillows and blankets. I wracked my memory, attempting to find a logical explanation for how I had gotten here. I formed two logical options: I had either died or someone had rescued me from Edanna. The latter was all the more likely. I felt my face burn in shame. I had to have been rescued.

I looked up as figure appeared in the doorway and, even though the pain in my body told me otherwise, I was more inclined to believe that I was indeed dead, for I had to be seeing an angel.

Her hair was the color of desert sand, shoulder-length and curly. She was not delicate by any means, but stood tall and strong, a working girl, watching me with mahogany eyes that seemed vaguely amused. She couldn't be much older than I.

"Are you going to pick your jaw up off the floor, or must I bandage it in place?"

I snapped out of my rude staring by her harsh observation.

"My apologies," I said, hastily fixing my eyes on anywhere but her, "I did not mean to be discourteous."

She set down a tray on the bedside table.

"Oh, yes you did," she said, pulling over a chair, "You're only apologizing because you thought it proper, not because you were actually sorry."

I smirked.

"Touché, Miss. I was merely assessing if I was, in fact, dead and seeing angels."

She laughed, saying, "You are not dead, though through your stupidity, you almost were. Honestly, didn't anyone ever teach you common sense?"

She tried to feed me herself, but I took the bowl from her, still intent on keeping some independence and dignity at least.

"Ah, so it was not stupidity, but pride."

"Pride has served me well in past times, so I did not think to toss it aside."

"Remove all of that sentence except 'I did not think,' and maybe you'll have the right idea. Who, exactly, did you need to protect your reputation for?"

"I did not want to embarrass myself in front of . . . well, my father for one, and my teacher for another."

She draped a cool washcloth over my head. It felt divine. Perhaps I was indeed more ill than I had originally thought.

"Well, your father and Saavedro already know. You've been in and out of consciousness for a week now - your sister was beside herself."

Cecilia. I cursed inwardly. I should not have made her keep that secret from Mother and Father. I could have died for that bit of pride I was so intent on grasping. And for what? So I could fail Father's challenge and end up lying on a bed in Narayan for a week? I should have waited. The girl's expression turned to one of compassion.

"Sirrus…" she soothed, taking my hand, "it's not your fault. We all have our moments of arrogance, moments when there is only us and the world and everyone else is small beneath our gaze. It passes."

"…You never told me your name, though you seem to know mine."

"Cora," she replied, not at all thrown off by the change of subject.

"Cora…a pleasure to meet you. I am Sirrus."

"And you will not be defeated!" she exclaimed, laughing. I chuckled as well.

"Never."


	22. Moving Away

**A/N: I have a horrendous update schedule. I'm pretty much a horrible person like that.**

Devokan Tsahno

Chapter 21

Moving Away

"Your son is none too subtle, Atrus," I remarked as I glanced out the window to watch Sirrus Link away, Book dropping to the balcony floor.

"He thinks he's fooling us," chuckled Atrus from his workbench, "But I do not wish to shatter that illusion. He may have his fun, sneaking out to meet his female friend."

"'Female friend'? I might still not know much of D'ni culture, but when a guy sneaks out almost every day for two years to meet a girl, it's more than friendship. If it were not, there would be no sneaking."

Atrus was quiet a moment, tapping his pen against his journal.

"It just seems . . . so strange . . ." he murmured, "My boys are no longer my boys . . . they are adults now, with their own lives, independent of me . . . Achenar lives on Haven and Sirrus stays away longer and longer . . ."

He closed his eyes.

"It was only yesterday, it seems, when they were in short pants, running and playing on Myst Island, having to scold them for tracking mud into the house, reading them stories, watching them sleep, worrying . . . and I wonder if I did right by them."

I was silent for a while before replying, "I think you did, Atrus. I think you did. They're strong, independent, responsible young men."

"I am proud . . . very proud . . ."

He stood and turned away, attempting to regain control. When he had sufficient reign on his emotions, he turned back to me.

"I am proud of you as well. You mean as much to me as Sirrus and Achenar. You are my daughter, Cecilia. I hope I've done right by you as well."

He embraced me. I wrapped my arms around him, trying to recount my own father's face. But the word "Father" in my mind only brought Atrus; memories of coffee-filled mornings and midnight-oil burnings, missed meals and last minute desert hikes, fashion disasters and singed hair, ages and Ages of memories.

" . . . You have, Atrus. . . Father. You have."

I pulled away enough to look at him.

"But why so pensive today? Usually I can't get a word out of you that isn't technical," I teased.

"I suppose I'm getting sentimental in my old age," he laughed, moving to lean against his desk, "But I can't help but feel that a huge change is on the horizon."

"With Riven?"

Atrus was silent, grin slipping from his face. He wandered over to the crystal viewer, where the now familiar burgundy book lay.

"Perhaps . . . I am so close to . . . to seeing the Age. I do not know what I will do afterwards, however. What can I do? Hope that my father redeemed himself? There is such a small chance that it seems unnecessary to continue."

"You'll still try."

"I know I will," Atrus sighed, "I suppose it is one of my faults. Even though I know he performed such horrid acts in his life, I cannot help but hope that I can bring him back."

The clank and groan of the elevator caught our attention. We could only watch, mute with surprise and horror, as a burned and bloody Sirrus stumbled out of the elevator and into Atrus' arms.

"Sirrus," Atrus managed to choke out, easing him into a chair "What . . . what happened?"

"Narayan is burning, Father," he hoarsely whispered, "Narayan is burning and it's all my fault."

"Whatever happened Sirrus, it isn't your fault," I soothed, gently taking his cut hands.

"It _is_," he stated vehemently, "I showed them the Books, I showed them how the Art works. They wanted a world where they wouldn't have to work so hard to live. They dragged me before the Elders and when the Elders and I wouldn't cooperate, they . . ."

"That was not wise, to show them the Books. However, you did not know what these people could have been planning. I am proud that you refused them. We must do what we can to help now. Did you find Saavedro anywhere?"

"He is the one who forced me to leave," Sirrus said, gathering his strength. "He is helping to fight. I do not think the Youths - for that is what they call themselves - will win, but there will be heavy casualties on both sides if we do not act now."

Atrus nodded, though obviously wary of conflict.

"People are _dying_, Father! If we do not assist _now_, Narayan could fall apart! The balance will be gone and the Age will die."

Atrus considered this a moment, mulling over the pros and cons of involvement. After a time, he places his hands on Sirrus' shoulders.

"My son, you must do what you can to calm the sides. You have an excellent way with words and people. I trust you can, with luck, call a truce until I can arrive with Achenar."

"Yes Father," he said determinedly. I glanced at Atrus as though he had lost his mind, but he didn't seem to notice.

"Cecilia," Sirrus , you must stay here with Catherine and help her gather medical supplies. I would guess that they will be short of such things on Narayan."

I opened my mouth to protest, but, realizing that I couldn't do any good on Narayan, I merely nodded.

* * *

As soon as my feet touched the platform, I could feel the smoke fill my lungs and nose, the acrid smell making me choke and my eyes water. The trees burned and the creaking, swaying branches above made me nervous. The fighting had died down, but it left corpses in its wake, strewn about like rag dolls on the platforms. I had seen death before, but only as the elderly peacefully moved on. This was foreign to me and it made me _tremble_. I couldn't look at them as Catherine and I made our way to the makeshift hospital, arms laden with medical supplies.

We were directed by a small boy to the temporary hospital. There were so many wounded I could barely think to count. Rows and rows of cots covered the floor of the large hall, the space in between thick with people crying out for their loved ones or helping the survivors with their injuries. I barely registered when an older woman took the box of supplies from my hands and handed it off to someone else.

"Where are my sons and my husband?" I heard Catherine ask the woman.

"Atrus and Achenar are with Saavedro attempting to put out the fires on the upper layers. Sirrus hasn't been seen since his meeting with the Elders and the Youths."

"I see," murmured Catherine, worry lacing her voice. The woman took her hand sympathetically.

"I know it's hard to wait, but we must focus on who we can help. I know . . . I haven't seen my brother since the fighting broke out."

Catherine nodded, "You are right. Tell me, what can we do here? Cecilia? Are you all right? You look as though you are going to faint."

She eased me into a chair as the woman brought me a glass of water.

"Thank you," I said, sipping it. "I suppose I'm not very good with blood and death like this."

"I don't blame you," said the woman, "This is not something we are used to either. We are doing all we can, but sometimes even that fails."

She looked at the dozens of people lying across the room, trailing off into memories of pain. After a time, she spoke again.

"You can't save everyone, no matter how hard you try. Every moment someone slips away, one more soul finding peace in another world to join the ancestors. The inevitable end to all life."

"Is there ever any hope after all this?"

"There is always hope," she said, gesturing to the doorway. Sirrus was standing there, arms wrapped around Cora, trying to sooth her and turn her away from the death and pain. Both injured, both pained, yet comforted, merely happy that the other is alive.

"With each generation," the woman said, "there is hope."

She turned away and disappeared into the growing crowd. People were running about shouting for loved ones, crying over those dead or missing. I felt myself get up to help them find their family. I heard my voice shout out names and guide others around the room, but it was as if I was in a dream - or a nightmare - looking down on myself, doing these things.

Time passed, the crowd thinned, the dead were sent away, songs sung out into the warm night air. I wandered outside at sat on the edge, feet dangling over the abyss below, still in a daze from the sheer tragedy of it all.

It's funny what death reminds you of. It forces everything into perspective. The trivial things fall away and you're left with a real sense of what's important. For fourteen years, I was searching for that. When I was younger, I used to sit outside the library on Myst and hope that it was all a dream, that I would wake up and go back to my normal, boring high school life. I was angry for a long time, though I never showed it to Atrus and as long as I was busy, I never remembered how much I hated it all.

I can hardly remember that feeling anymore. I've become used to this world, this life that I have now. I couldn't go back, I don't think. I'm well educated, yes, but I also never graduated high school. I can drive a tram and a boat, but a car would defeat me. We don't even have a monetary system here, as we barter for everything we need. I'm used to hard labor and cooked meals, busy markets and Writing.

Writing. The Art. That in itself is a reason to stay. Flowing words across a page and linking to new and old places, seeing sights that I never could have dreamed of before. Nothing on any Age could replace that. Not even on Earth.

I couldn't think about anything anymore. I started crying and found myself unable to stop. All I could think of was why. Why did this happen to me? To us? To everyone?

I felt strong arms pick me up gently, holding me close. I clung to the coat that I had so violently protesting the wearing of a day earlier, inhaling the smell of smoke and ink.

"Why, Dad?" I choked out through my sobs. "Why?"

"Sometimes, there are questions that no one can ever know the answer to. The universe works in mysterious ways. Sometimes, you have to believe that it all amounts to something better."

"Was there any purpose to me being here?"

"Cecilia . . . I honestly believe the world would be a much darker place without you in it."

Exhaustion overtook me then, but I could not tell which was the greater nightmare.


End file.
